#because he’s definitely more comfortable with others

[k-hotchoisan]

play rough

<san x fem!reader x seonghwa>

Where your pretty little cat hybrids keep more than your hands busy, especially when Seonghwa can’t keep his paws off you during his rut.

no fur coats, but a hell lot of purring 🐾

a/n: an exchange im doing with the loml @bro-atz 🩷 hope you’ll love it as much as I did hehehe. this is also a love letter to bro, who shares the same brain as i do, who now cannot remove me from their life even they wanted to 😛🩷

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, two horny kitty hybrids, Seonghwa is in heat, orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mild exhibitionism because San catches you and hwa fucking, cunnilingus, kitchen sex, anal, it's filthy (atp i think you're not surprised???), breeding

word count: 3K

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie  @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @owlbeforesunrise @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @haleyjoy @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @woojirang  @yeo-arriba @jjoongstar

Seonghwa draws circles on your thigh, blinking slowly at the tv programme that he’s evidently not focusing on. It’s a lazy afternoon and it’s your day off. Both felines are more than happy to have you around, burying you with themselves at either side of your body. 

Both kitties can switch back and forth between their cat transformations, and they do, out of convenience for certain situations, and especially when they want you to carry them to bed. San lies down on your lap, his feline breed of a bigger size because of his human stature, evidently taking up more space on your lap. He’s definitely fallen asleep, judging by his slow breathing patterns. Seonghwa, on the other hand, seemed distracted. He’s huddled up against your shoulder, hand still on your thighs. 

You don’t pay him much attention, wanting to concentrate on carrying San. 

Seonghwa jumps when you shift to leave, a displeased expression on his face as his fingers grab your shirt, his ears downcast. “Where are you going?” He asks with a pout. 

“Let me carry San back into the bedroom since he wants to sleep”, you say, carefully picking the fluffier cat up. San stirs slightly, but when he realises it’s you, his body relaxes a little. Seonghwa reluctantly lets go when your hand slips under his chin giving him small strokes, feeling him purr before he finally lets you go. 

“Gosh, Sannie. I know you’ve been working out but holy shit-“ you stammer in your movements, trying to balance his weight on your arms. San is half-awake, flailing slightly in an attempt to keep his balance in your arms. It’s utterly adorable but you would never hear the end of his whining if you were to drop him again. You decide to stay still and let the feline adjust comfortably before you walked over to your shared bedroom to drop him off. San nuzzles against your neck, soft purrs reaching your ears as his cat body presses against you, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his soft fur. San in his cat form was a lot easier to carry than when he transforms into a hybrid, that’s for sure, but he really is a big cat compared to Seonghwa. 

You watch as San lulls himself to sleep, his tail-swishing gradually slowing down as his body relaxes, before you press a soft kiss onto his small forehead, leaving him to wander in his daydreams. 

Once San has completely dozed off, you gingerly slide off the bed, heading to the common space in the apartment, deciding to whip yourself something light to snack on.

You pass the sofa, your peripherals catching the taller male lying on the sofa. You steal a quick glance—Seonghwa also seemed to be deep in his slumber—his tail relaxed against the fabric of the couch, his arms outstretched, hugging the pillow, his hair splayed messily. Oh gosh, he’s so fucking adorable.

You let yourself internally fawn over how soft he looks before you turned your heel to the kitchen. What you don’t notice is the way Seonghwa’s eyebrows are furrowed, the way his legs are squeezing hard against the pillow, and the way the smell of you is flooding his senses when you bypass him. His breathing grows slightly heavier. 

You softly hum to yourself, even though you are at a considerable distance from the couch, you still wanted to be cautious about waking Seonghwa up. Recently it seems like he’s slightly on edge. For the most part, Seonghwa’s energy jumps between a spectrum—calm or just bursting at the seams with endless amounts of energy, almost comparable to San. But Seonghwa has been more restless as of late, his attention span everywhere, his sensitivity seemingly climbing up in levels. 

You pull open the fridge door, your eyes scanning the contents for any signs of leftovers you could have a quick munch on. Your hands reach out to a bunched-up pile of aluminum foil—the leftover kimbap you made the day before. You shut the door quickly once you have the snack in your hands, spending no time unwrapping the foil. 

Your attention is now on the content on your phone, reading off social media while you comfortably munch on the rice rolls, your body facing the counter, too engrossed to get a chair to sit. 

Midway through your snack time, your body jolts when you feel a pair of very warm hands wrap around your waist, his body weight pressing against yours. 

“You’re up, Hwa. Are you hungry?” You ask, stroking his arms, not realising that he’s letting them slip dangerously close to your chest. 

Seonghwa shakes his head, then presses his cheeks against your temple, nuzzling you. 

His arms tighten around you, his hands slipping under your shirt more boldly, his slender fingers cupping your tits, giving them a squeeze that elicited a soft groan from you.

The kimbap is left forgotten on the counter.

You sigh, the feeling of Seonghwa’s teeth nibbling against the soft skin on your neck while he kneads your tits seeping into your senses. 

You swallow hard, trying to keep your sanity rooted, even though Seonghwa’s hands are slipping downwards south, his fingers tugging and fidgeting with the elastic of your shorts. 

“What’s up, kitty?”, you manage to ask in between deep breaths. His thumbs hook onto the waistband, teasingly tugging your shorts lower. 

Then you feel something thick pressing against the curve of your spine when he leans in impossibly close. 

Heat is flushing into your cheeks but you remain composed, turning your head to face Seonghwa. 

“Can’t seem to sleep with the smell of you just suffocating me like that”, he mutters, tone low that you shiver, and he has one hand palming over his thick erection underneath his shorts. “And especially your cunt.”

You don’t answer him right away, your mind sifting through the possibilities behind Seonghwa’s recent behaviour. His tail curls around your thighs, riding the fabric of your shorts, the fluffy tip caressing your skin. 

“Your heat came early”, you realise when the pieces finally click together. However, a little too late by then, considering that Seonghwa has you trapped under him, his erection pressing painfully against your lower back while his hands are leaving no areas of your skin untouched. It’s creating a haze in your mind, and before you could even formulate a response to offer the older hybrid to buy meds, his fingers are close to your scalp, and he tugs your hair with enough force that you’re forced to face upwards, staring right into Seonghwa’s glazed out eyes. He stares down at you, eyes dripping with overflowing lust before he collides his lips against yours, stealing every bit of oxygen left, his tongue exploring every part of your mouth, all of your moans going right to his cock. 

When he pulls back, he leans you over the kitchen counter, pressing his weight against yours, his lips right at the shell of your ear.

“Fucking hell. I can smell how much your pussy just wants to be fucked.”

“Wait! Hwa-“

“You’re such a bad owner”, he continues, in between groans that only make you squeeze your thighs when he grinds himself against you. “You’re doing it on purpose, right? Walking around with no fucking panties on. Just begging me to fuck you.” 

“It’s not that, Seonghwa-“, you squirm a little, your mind dangerously going blank when you feel Seonghwa pushing the opening of your shorts to reveal your soaking cunt, just taunting. 

“We might wake San up!”

His pants are the next to slide off, his cockhead just rubbing against the folds of your pussy. 

“Then let him. You know he likes watching your pretty little hole get stretched open no matter who’s fucking you right?”

He lines his wet cockhead to your hole. 

Then he pushes himself in, and the groan he releases when he does sounds like honey in your ears as he stretches you open to accommodate his thick cock. Your hand flies to his arms which are wrapped around your waist. 

“H-Hwa! Oh fuck-“ you gasp, feeling his cock slowly fill your pussy, girth thickening towards the base. 

“I’ve been such a good kitty right?” Seonghwa mutters into your ear, listening to the way you’re falling apart on his cock. “I held back so well. You should reward me, Angel. Then again, this pretty pussy of yours is enough. I’ll take good care of it for you.”

He pulls back and starts thrusting his hips against yours, the sounds growing wetter and louder. Seonghwa moans right in your ear, and his grip around you tightens further when he feels you clench around him. 

Cream and precum start to gather and further soak your cunt, some trickling down your inner thighs. 

“So fucking good. You’re so fucking tight for me, Angel”, Seonghwa purrs, his eyes rolling back in pleasure every time your cunt just sucks his cock in, wet and thick with cream. 

Seonghwa straightens his back, making it easier for him to just fuck you from the back all the same. 

The knot in your stomach tightens, and your breath hitches every time Seonghwa’s cock hits your sensitive spots. 

He presses his body weight against yours once more, his ruts growing more intense, and he has his hands around your neck. 

“You’re gonna cum for me, Angel? Fuck. Gonna make sure breed you so fucking good.”

And that was enough to set the both of you off—stars splattering across your eyelids, your legs shaking uncontrollably while Seonghwa forces his cock still in you, thick white filling your pussy up, leaking past your hole. 

You attempt to muffle your moans with your hands. Still, it’s rendered useless anyway, most because you watch San walk out of the bedroom in his hybrid form, ears pointed downwards, rubbing sleep from his eyes, expression unreadable when his eyes land on his friend with his cock stuffed in his owner’s pussy, and especially his owner looking up at him, her eyes in tears while cum drips down her thighs. 

His eyebrows are furrowed and he pouts. 

You stare at the hybrid before you, his ears perked up, his eyes glazed out and so needy.

San starts kissing up your neck from behind, his tail flicking back and forth, tickling your skin as he does. 

When you and Seonghwa had been caught by San, San pouted, upset that no one woke him up to let him join the fun. 

And now you were dragged into the bedroom, with Seonghwa sitting before you and San behind you. Seonghwa has his cat ears pointed forwards, his cock still thick and hard, messy with cream, and his fingers trail up your neck to your chin before he closes the distance between the both of you. 

The thing about San is that he knows how to play around with Seonghwa when it comes to fucking you, and during Seonghwa’s rut, it’s no different. 

When Seonghwa pulls away from you, lips wet with spit, precum seeping from his cockhead, mind greedy and desperate, San cups your tits, letting Seonghwa watch him pinch your nipples, letting your cunt spit more slick, staining your inner thighs even more while you squeal in pleasure. 

Seonghwa joins San, pressing and sucking his kisses against your skin, relishing in the way you groan every time he forms a pretty mark on your neck to your chest, then from your sternum to your pelvis, and he continues to lower himself right until his lips are on your pussy. He looks up at you through his lashes, watching the way your glazed-out expression when San makes you suck on his fingers. Seonghwa’s lips press against your creamy folds, letting his tongue slide into them, licking and fucking your pretty little hole, his cock leaking so much thick precum when he listens to your cries growing louder. San’s wet finger that he made you suck circles your asshole. He pushes one finger in, reminding you to relax or he can’t fit his cock in and Seonghwa continues to flick his tongue against your clit, tasting everything your pussy has to give. The hybrid behind you stretches your ass with another wet finger, and it’s making you tear up, but you feel his other hand slide across your thighs to soothe you. 

Your mind is hazy, and it’s not about to get any better when you feel your orgasm build as Seonghwa’s fucking your cunt with his tongue. 

San lines his cockhead to your asshole when he thinks you’re stretched open enough, and pushes in, kissing up your chin, reminding you to relax for him when he hears you sob. 

“You shouldn’t be mad at our sweetheart, hyung”, San defends you, watching the way your thighs are shaking from the impending orgasm. “She’s always been taking such good care of us, letting us fuck her whenever we want.” 

Another lick and your hands push Seonghwa against your cunt, cumming so fucking good on his tongue with a broken cry, your hole clenching San’s cock, his voice cursing in your ears. 

“Hwa! Fuck!”, you cry out, hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer to your cunt while he fucks you with his tongue through your orgasm, his purrs getting muffled, vibrating against your clit, making you shake even more. 

When Seonghwa pulls back, his cock is dripping with cum, his breathing as heavy as his cock.

You squeal slightly when San slowly pulls out of your ass before making you straddle Seonghwa’s lap. 

San leans into your ear to give you a suggestion. 

“You should be a good girl and ride him. You know he loves it when you do.”

Seonghwa looks like he’s on the verge of crying, his fists are clenched, his mind anticipating when he watches you hungrily lift your hips, grazing your pussy with his messy and thick cock before you push yourself on him, your legs shaking from how Seonghwa split your pussy from below. 

He hisses, a slew of curses leaving his lips while his cock twitches in you. His pretty ears are twitching too. 

“So good,” Seonghwa mutters in between tears. “Fuck. Still so fucking tight even when I fucked you just now-“

San lets his hands rest on your hip, guiding you to fuck yourself on Seonghwa’s cock. Seonghwa’s tail swishes rather violently, his head rolled back and pressed into the pillows, his whines and grunts filling up the room. Watching him squirm and unravel could get you and San addicted—especially with the stark contrast of when he takes the lead at first, only to completely fall apart in your hands when he’s under you. 

“Kitty is so fucking cute when you’re ruining him like this, especially when he’s in heat”, San hums. You nod, kissing San on his temple before your face contorts into pleasure when you sink onto Seonghwa’s cock again. 

“You’re such a good boy, Hwa. Such a good and pretty boy for me”, you sigh, leaning forward, letting your hands wander across his body, your fingertips teasingly grazing against his perky and swollen nipples. You press your thumb against his lips, and Seonghwa sucks on your fingers, looking at you with watery eyes. You wet your other thumb with your lips, and roll his nipples, listening to Seonghwa cry out helplessly underneath you while you still bounce off his lengthy cock. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck”, Seonghwa whimpers, his ears twitching uncontrollably. “Ngh- gonna cum. Fuck! Cumming-Oh fuck it’s so much”, he groans, eyes screwed shut, fingers leaving marks on your thighs, holding you still, letting his endless warm and thick spurts fill you up over and over again while you sing him praises.  

“Don’t forget about me, kitty”, San reminds you, his hands pulling you back as you lift yourself off Seonghwa’s cock with an eye-rolling shiver, so much fucking cum drizzling out from your hole, which San slips his cock in, and plugs your pussy hole shut, ignoring the way you’re crying that you’re too full.

It’s fine. San is gonna fuck the cum out of you anyway. 

San’s thick cock stuffs you full, and you hear him groan in your ear when he bottoms out in you. His hands caress your thighs before he lifts you and sits you on his cock again, listening to your cries. 

“Hyung, you really stretched her out so well”, San teases, his tail excitedly hitting the mattress whenever he feels you squeeze him. 

Seonghwa fucks his hand, watching the way you’re being fucked by San from below. Seonghwa doesn’t like sharing, but for some reason, he thinks San’s enjoyment of watching you be fucked stupid by him starts making sense in his head seeing you so ruined perfectly like that. 

Fluids pool at the base of San’s cock at every thrust, and it’s a pornographic sight of his cock thrusting in and out of your abused hole. 

In your ears, you’re just hearing San groaning, “fuck kitty. feels so fuckin amazing like this. Oh my fuck.”

Your brain is mush, coherent sentences aren’t even forming—only feeling San’s dick hitting spots in your pussy that’s making you see stars. 

Seonghwa shifts above you, his hand on your scalp, forcing you to look up at him and his pretty cock, watching him fucking his hand against your face. By instinct, you stick your tongue out as much as you can, even though you’re being fucked stupid by San. 

“That’s a good girl”, Seonghwa hums. “I’ll make you so fucking pretty.” 

With a strained groan, he bucks his hips against his palm, another load decorating your face. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so much, kitty. I know hyung likes messing you up with his cum. Still, I’m the one with his cock in you y’know”, San complains as he pushes his cock even deeper, pulling you out of any remaining coherent thoughts, your legs pushing open when your third orgasm hits from the overstimulation. You break, spraying all over Seonghwa when you lift your hips off San, forcefully pushing his cock out, his cum diluted by the clear liquid. 

No doubt, you’re completely spent. Your eyelids are heavy from exhaustion, but San and Seonghwa take turns pressing kisses onto your lips, whispering sweet nothings alongside purring against your neck. 

You’re in an absolute sticky mess, in tears, so fucked out thanks to your two pretty kitties.

And you’d let them do it all over again. 

[lemonlover1110]

Hi! For your requests could you do clingy reader in her early 20s and Toji in his mid 30s finding out she's pregnant and interacting with her strict parents? Please?

Whenever you get the chance, lysm!

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: You break the news to your parents that you're expecting.

Warnings: Fluff, Pregnancy, Age Gap (Reader early 20s, Toji mid thirties), Toji being a nervous wreck, Strict Parents

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Finding out that your girlfriend should be great news; however, this news takes Toji by surprise and leaves him unsure of how to feel. It definitely wasn’t planned, though he shouldn’t be shocked since you two weren’t all that careful. Toji wants to get really excited for this but there’s something that holds him back– Your parents.

Your parents haven’t been very accepting of Toji, mostly because of your age gap. Of course, there are some other factors that lead to your parents not liking Toji, but your age gap is the main one. Your parents aren’t easy human beings to win over, and for some reason Toji is freaking out about it. Truthfully, Toji has never been more worried in his life.

“Can’t you just call them? Tell them the great news?” He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s freaking out when you’re standing at their doorstep. You’re holding his hand, trying to get him to calm down, but it’s not working and you’re just feeling his sweaty palm. Great.

“C’mon, they’re not going to eat you alive. You are the reason they’re getting a cute grandbaby.” You tell him, hoping it’ll calm down his nerves, but he just side eyes you.

“Like that makes it any better.” He mutters, and you roll your eyes. Toji’s acting as if your dad is going to grab a shotgun and shoot him– Even if that were to happen, you’re almost sure that Toji will somehow deflect a bullet. “Baby, can you have an ambulance on standby?”

“Toji, for the love of–” You’re cut off by the door that opens. Your mother greets you both sweetly. She figured that she can’t change your mind, she might as well welcome Toji into the family. Your father is a whole different story though.

Your father is less welcoming to Toji, but he tries to make some conversation with the man. It’s dry since your father doesn’t want to talk to Toji, and Toji is losing his fucking mind.

Dinner begins, and your mother is the one that carries the conversation. Toji feels as if your father glares at him every once in a while, and you notice how his breathing gets heavier. He’s freaking out, and you don’t know how to calm him down. 

Your hand goes under the table, going to Toji’s thigh and lightly squeezing it, hoping it’ll bring him comfort. Toji gives you an awkward smile before sighing.

“So why did you two want to join us for dinner?” Your father asks, knowing this isn’t just a bonding dinner. You’re here for a reason. You clear your throat before speaking,

“We have an announcement.” You sound awkward, and your father furrows his eyebrows while your mother smiles, thinking she knows what the announcement is. You and Toji exchange a look, and you can tell he just wants to sprint out of the house. It’s hilarious to think about since Toji is the biggest person in the room, and not to even mention that you two are grown adults.

“You’re engaged! Let us see the ring!” Your mother exclaims, and Toji’s face suddenly gets hot. If he wasn’t dead before, he certainly is going to die now. The fact that you aren’t married is surely going to cause an issue.

“I don’t think that’s it…” Your father figures that out, but he can’t figure out the announcement. You take a deep breath, and you shut your eyes. You can’t even look at them, Toji’s nerves transferring over to you.

“I’m pregnant.” You share, and you know that their eyes are wide. You know Toji is about to faint.

“We don’t know how it happened– Well, we know how it happened but… We weren’t planning it so soon, I had a wedding and everything planned but this just came out of nowhere.” Toji is rambling. Your Toji, a man of few words, is trying to explain everything to your dad because he doesn’t want to die tonight. He’s sure he’s still going to, though. 

Your parents are oddly quiet, making you open your eyes and see what’s up with them. Your dad ends up sighing before speaking up, “You two are adults, you know what you’re doing.”

Your mother nods in agreement, and you furrow your brows at the lack of reaction. Toji shares the same reaction as you do. 

“Is that all?” Toji is about to let out a sigh of relief.

“Yup. Can’t hold you for too long since you two have to start planning a wedding soon.” Is your father’s response, and Toji chuckles. That’s more like it.

At least he isn’t dead, which was Toji’s expected outcome.

[sixosix]

religion's in your lips

third year to timeskip!hinata x fem!reader, a tad suggestive

It’s Shoyo’s fault.

You don’t join Shoyo’s outings often; most of them are volleyball-related anyway, and you didn’t want to get in the way. But right now, it’s just the third years, and Shoyo had begged so sweetly with round eyes that you would be cruel to even think about denying him.

Kageyama sits on your other side, stiff and polite, jostled here and there by Shoyo pressing up against you. Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Yachi sit on the other side of the table. Conversation is light and comfortable. They don’t exclude you even when talking about practice matches and lineups—Yamaguchi asks you about your own club ever so often, too.

Yamaguchi claps his hand, forcing everyone’s attention on him. Except Shoyo, who’s busy tracing stars on your hand. “Do you guys want to watch a movie this weekend? I heard they’re releasing a sequel of the one we watched back in first year.”

Yachi emits a wordless sound of excitement, easily agreeing. Kageyama and Tsukishima begrudgingly agree at the same time, then sneer at each other. Then they all turn to you and Shoyo.

Shoyo grins. “Sorry, I got plans already.”

“You get a girlfriend, and suddenly you forget about us,” Yamaguchi mourns. Shoyo laughs while you get flustered and assure them that you’re not keeping your boyfriend hostage. Kageyama says that they know Hinata is the one doing it.

“You’re going to watch our match next week, though, right?” Shoyo asks you in a low whisper, as the other three dutifully settle in their own world.

“You don’t even need to ask, Shoyo,” you tell him. “Of course.”

Shoyo’s eyes brighten impossibly, face split into a grin. He looks like he wants to push you down onto the floor to kiss you in front of his friends, but he doesn’t. You knew he wouldn’t.

It’s Shoyo’s fault.

Really. Seriously this time. Specifically, Hinata Shoyo from third year. He’s changed from first year, gained more confidence, but he’s still shy and soft-spoken with you, which you expected from someone as sweet as him. It set your expectations for him and what your relationship would look like in the years and years that you’ll spend with him: bearing that first love kind of shyness.

It takes about two years to prove you wrong.

When Shoyo came back from Brazil, the first thing he did was kiss you breathless in front of everyone in the airport.

His strong arms around your waist, pulling you up—which you had to think ‘thank God’ for because your knees have definitely buckled. You don’t think too much about it, because he’s been gone for two years—two!!—and you’ve missed each other too much.

But when Hinata’s mouth descends to your jaw, you have to push him by the chest and exclaim (albeit weakly), “Shoyo—there are still people behind us!”

Shoyo blinks and pulls off, his eyes fogged over with heat that makes you have to look away, having to remind yourself that you’re in public and you do not want to beg for him to continue. Thankfully, his friends yelling his name seems to have snapped him out of it.

But his palm never left your side, splayed over your hip like a mark.

It gets worse at his homecoming party thrown by his teammates back at Karasuno. You’re familiar with them, and they’re familiar with you, so of course, it wasn’t a problem when Shoyo was pulled away to greet everyone. You made friendly conversation with Sugawara-san, caught up with Nishinoya, and joked around all night with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima.

“You called each other every night?” Yamaguchi’s brows have shot up all the way to his hairline.

You smile. “I mean—isn’t it normal for people in a relationship?”

Tsukishima shrugs. “Hinata loves you as much as he loves volleyball, I’m not surprised.”

Yamaguchi considers it. “Hmm, I guess.”

“Hinata’s waiting for you,” Kageyama mutters from behind you, appearing out of nowhere. His brows are stitched together, and his mouth is pulled in his ever-permanent Kageyama pout. “His staring is pissing me off. Can you go get him?”

“He’s not a dog, Tobio,” you chide lightly but grin all the same when you turn to your side and see Hinata Shoyo’s eyes drilling holes into your head.

He’s not mouthing anything. Shoyo stays seated on the loveseat, looking entirely isolated from the crowd around him. His eyes say it all: come here.

Helpless to his whims, you obey.

“Shoyo,” you murmur as soon as you reach him.

He pulls you to his lap. “Baby.”

You freeze. He’s never called you that before—his expression isn’t shy at all, too, just expectant. Heat crawls down your body as he tugs your back to his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. Shoyo’s own warmth is a burning sensation. You feel lightheaded.

“Ah—well, um.” You pinch your arm. “Are you feeling okay? Did you drink?”

“There’s no alcohol here.”

“I’m pretty sure I saw Sugawara-san holding a bottle.”

“Ah, well. Sugawara-san.”

You understand. What you don’t understand is what happened in those two years to have Shoyo’s hand crawling on your thigh, a scorching mark on only that part of your skin. To have Shoyo’s breath on the nape of your neck without him flushing and flinching away. To have Shoyo have this air of confidence around him that’s usually in volleyball suddenly translate to you.

“Did you miss me this much?”

“You have no idea, don’t you?” The implications are clear: I could show you how much, if you want.

Still, this development is very sudden. You squirm on his lap, but Shoyo doesn’t relent. He keeps you there, a puddle in his hands. Nobody is watching—or maybe they’re just being respectful, but you feel flustered facing this side of Shoyo in public.

“Shoyo,” you warn. “Not here.”

It’s Heitor’s fault.

Ever since Hinata had met Heitor and Nice and witnessed how unapologetically intimate they were with each other, Hinata became envious. He wanted that, too. He wanted that with you.

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” Heitor asked when Hinata lamented to him.

Hinata made a pitiful noise, like a deflating balloon. “I don’t know. I think she just thinks I’m too cute to take that seriously.”

Heitor laughs. “Shoyo. Trust me. You’ll drive your girl crazy if you’re confident with it.”

It’s Heitor’s fault, and Hinata is eternally grateful for it, seeing your wide-eyed face beneath him like this. He loves it when he surprises people, but yours might be a different kind of thrill that he’s already addicted to.

[formulamoons]

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ KEEP DRIVING - MAX VERSTAPPEN

content fluff, established relationships

For some, driving with Max might be described as fast and aggressive. But for you, driving with Max feels safe, comforting, and full of love.

You sit in the passenger seat in complete silence, the only sound being an old song you both love playing softly in the background (you've likely created a shared playlist just for these car rides). Gazing out the window, you get lost in the beauty of the passing landscapes and probably fall asleep if the drive lasts more than ten minutes, all the while feeling the comforting presence of Max's hand resting gently on your thigh.

Other times, you exchange stories about life before and after meeting each other. Some are funny, filled with laughter, while others delve into vulnerable thoughts and feelings. To balance the atmosphere, you gossip afterward, seamlessly blending heartfelt moments with lighthearted banter.

And, of course, there are those special occasions. “Max—” you begin, trying to warn him, but he interrupts before you can finish your sentence.

“No, schatje, if you love me, you'll listen to this song. No talking.” So, you fall silent, letting him drive as the song plays softly in the background.

Loving Max is all about listening. It's about hearing the sounds he makes when he's at a loss for words (which is rare), to the rhythm of his heartbeats when you lie on his chest, to his triumphant cheers when he wins a race, to the curse words that slip from his lips under his breath when he's truly angry, to the songs he loves and wants to share with you, to his animated chatter about racing and the things he's genuinely passionate about, and to the affectionate pet names he reserves for you, accompanied by sweet nothings.

"So, what do you think?" Max asks once the song finishes, glancing at your face.

"I love it, Max," you answer with a smile. "This should definitely be added to the playlist."

"I told you it's good. I knew you would like it," he smiles proudly. Because if there's something that makes Max prouder than winning a race, it's knowing you—feeling like he can read your mind and use it to make you smile, to make you happy.

"I might like you less now that you know me so well," you tease, and he laughs, a genuinely warm sound that makes your insides flutter. "Anyway, can I say something really quick?"

"Sure, liefje."

"You know we're driving in the wrong direction, right?" you point out, and his gaze finally meets the GPS, which now marks an extra hour than before and keeps recalculating the route.

"Fuck," he whispers, and now it’s your turn to laugh at him. "Sorry, schatje," he offers quietly.

"It's fine. We can get to know each other better," you say, a smile playing on your lips.

a/n.- based on this boygenius song

[lawchwan]

you look pretty when you cry (zoro, law, sanji)

summary: how they would react when they see you cry requested: @somethingsaladsomething reader: gn!reader disclaimer: nsfw with sanji, use of safeword, (although the sex is consensual, sanji’s can be a bit triggering so if you don’t want to deal with the whole thing, i suggest you skip it), implied physical harassment with zoro, while this is gn! reader was refered as wife in zoro’s part, implied depression or anxiousness with law (although i suffer from both, the piece is not the most accurate rep so take it as you will), rushed work, just one piece characters being sweeties genre: headcanon, fluff, suggestive a/n: my first request !!! i hope i don't disappoint here :) sorry i took forever though

crossposted on ao3

Law

Now I don't want to sit in the chat and say Law’s emotionally unintelligent, because he is not but he definitely has his moments where he needs to read the room before he acts. bare with him, he's just learning with you on how a relationship should work. he’s the type to leave you alone when you’re upset because thats his usual instinct that when one’s upset, they want to be left alone. he kinda has to learn the hard way that that’s not always the case…

You woke up in a funk and just did not feel alright. You were stressed and burned out and all you wanted was the comfort of your big hunk of a boyfriend, a simple cuddle with no exchange of words would've sufficed for your case.

Unfortunately, that's not how life works and it can be pretty unfair. Law’s been too preoccupied with whatever he's doing. With what? you don't know and don't care, what could he be doing that's more important than comforting you on your worst days? Furthermore, it didn't help that when you woke up, he wasn't even next to you in bed before he up and left.

Loneliness consumed you as your intrusive thoughts began to take their toll on you and start inhabiting your psyche. You knew they were irrational, you knew that Law wasn't going to leave you, you knew that he has the terrible habit of Irish Goodbye-ing his way out of a situation, you KNEW that you mean so much to him.

But his lack of communication is a flaw that you never think will challenge you as you thought you already what was coming. Law was a man with little words, so you can’t expect much from him, right?

You began tearing up as you start to grasp onto the pillow that Law once laid in, getting any ounce of remnants of him that can act as a source of comfort. Sure, it contained his manly scent that makes swoon and the pillow was soft, however it didn’t contain his usually cold beating heart that you enjoyed listening while holding him. You needed him badly as you began sobbing into the plush.

Unbeknownst to you, Law walked in, completely unbothered as he placed his kikoku to the side and closed the door. It didn’t register until he heard sniffles and the muffled sobbing that made Law furrow his brows in confusion. You began shaking as you almost screamed into the pillow Law would usually sleep in.

Law looked around the room in an almost panicked manner, almost like he’s trying to find the source on who made you cry before he leaned in to the bed and began shaking you.

“hey, hey, (y/n), what happened?!” Law hastily spoke. He was not the best at emotions but he will surely go kill someone that made you feel this way.

You lifted your face from the pillow, finally looking up at the person who has been in your mind the whole time he was gone. He’s studying your face while your lips quivered before you tackled his body by wrapping your whole body into his, your face on his neck. Law threw one arm behind him for support while the other arm instinctively wrapped around your midriff.

As you two settled, Law held your head as the other began stroking your back. He didn’t know what resulted in you acting this way, so he began speaking.

“(y/n), is there any—“

“Shut up, Law,” you interrupted as you spoke into his skin which made Law taken aback, “I just want you in my arms…”

Law’s tensed body relaxed as you grasped onto him like he was about to fade away from your arms. He is usually very awkward about physical touch and emotional confrontation, but he knew he can’t simply walk away from you and leave you be whenever you you’re not feeling the greatest.

he realizes that that it’s okay to remain, and if you wanted to be left alone, you’ll tell him. For now, however, all you both need is to be in each other’s arms to ease each other up.

“It’s okay, (y/n)… I’m here now”

Zoro

another awkward man who doesn’t know how to deal with emotions. he, like law, will go after someone who tries to harm his loved ones, he’s not here to play around.

You were running for the life of you, panting as you picked up the speed as someone was chasing you down. Everything was happening so fast, one second you were just eyeing at beautiful and intricate jewelry at bazaar near town, in awe of the sheer beauty and how colorful these gems gleamed in center. It was in the pricier side, which is what you expected, but you couldn’t help but gawk at the shiny gemstone that was practically calling your name.

A man stood by you, observing how you were eyeing at the jewel, took the opportunity to introduce himself and insist on buying this beautiful gem. You’ve naturally rejected his offer…

And next thing you knew, he was harassing you and chasing you down, demanding your hand in marriage. You ran away before he caught you—thanks to Zoro’s training in speed—but that’s all you could manage to do. You began finding a spot to hide, bumping into locals as you proceed to run while the man was calling out for you.

Once you find a crevice you can hide in, you kneeled as you began to wrap your arms around your legs as your breath began to shake in fear. Tears started to well up as you silently began calling out your boyfriend, hoping he can save you from this.

“(y/n)?” you hear a familiar voice, making your head jolt up at the man standing in front of you. It was Zoro, your boyfriend whom you prayed will show up. You only shook as you began stuttering and standing up to hold him.

You began sobbing onto his chest, meanwhile he froze in place, clueless on what to do. Your intention of hiding was shown to be futile, as your sobs echoed in the market, drawing unwanted attention while Zoro was looking around to see what happened, what lead to you in this mess.

“(y/n), I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on—” Zoro sternly yet worriedly spoke before he was interrupted by a roar.

“You get your filthy hands out of my future wife!”

Your blood ran cold as you heard that deep voice that struck fear into you. Once Zoro felt the stiffness and looked at the man who stood in front of the two of you, he already connected the puzzle pieces together.

So that’s the bastard that made you cry in fear…

“Your future wife, you say,” Zoro smirked that iconic devilish smirk before he rubbed your back, silently telling you to release him, which you did. That’s who Zoro was, a man with not many words, but you understood his language better than anyone could. You stood back while Zoro crossed his arms with a straight stand as he eyes at the man who’s ready attack him.

“That’s right! I even got her the jewel she wanted!” The harasser yelled as he grabbed hold of the jewel. You once admired that ring he was holding, now that it was in his hands, he absolutely tainted it. But Zoro couldn’t careless, he gathered both of his swords out, making the man jump in fear.

“Oh, I see, you got her that ring, how romantic…” Zoro taunted, enjoying the sight of the cowardly man standing in front of him. You only gulped at the sight, you knew Zoro will kill him, and he could only spare him if the man just ran away. Zoro simply walked up to him only for the man to walk backwards, legs shaking.

“Stand back! O-or I will kil—“

“Would like to see you try.” Zoro harshly spoke, which made the man ran before Zoro intimidatedly raised his sword at him.

“Coward,” he mumbled to himself before he placed his swords back to their case. Before he turned, he looked at the gleaming ring on the ground. He walked up to the source and picked it up to examine it, that was the ring that the man was holding earlier.

He turned to you, hugging yourself in the corner, not wanting your boyfriend to see your crying face. He smiled at you as he showcased the ring in his palm, “is this the ring that you were admiring?”

You only pursed your lips as you nodded. As much as you wanted to hate the ring for what that man did, you still had to admit that that ring was the most beautiful jewel you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

Zoro held your hand gently, and placed the ring in your ring finger. You looked at him in awe, only for him to smirk at you.

“I may not have bought the ring, which is a shame, but you deserve it…” He’s not the most romantic, but he always means well, which made you giggle when he tried to be one. He smiled at you as he held your face, rubbing away the remaining tear on your face.

”i got you, okay? just remember that…”

Sanji

out of the three of them, Sanji’s definitely the more in tune of emotions. He may not be the vulnerable one in the relationship, but he definitely allows himself to be emotional when he wants to with you and this man will do anything that will make that frown upside down.

It was a long night after a stressful day for the two of you. You thought you needed that destress but I guess your body asked for something different.

It was like any other regular session, Sanji gave you the foreplay that you needed before he laid on top of you, thrusting in and out of you letting out the sweetest of moans and whimpers.

He praises you and repeatedly tells you how good you feel, all the thibgs that typically turns you on, yet you feel like you’re in pain.

You don’t know what’s wrong, but you just didn’t feel good while Sanji attempts on pleasuring you. Instead there was this sharp pain in between your legs, the stretch of his cock went from the usual pleasurable sensation to discomfort.

“S-sanji… please…” you moaned out, but it wasn’t of arousal. Unfortunately, it sounded too similar to your pleasured state, thus Sanji thought you were just in pleasure, so he went in a pace much painful than you expected.

“fuck, c’mon, baby, c’mon, you’re doing so good~”

There was no use, you were in so much pain and you felt your tears welling up and started to sob at the sharp that your boyfriend has no idea of. You simply cannot take it anymore.

”BUTTERSQUASH!”

once you yelped out the safeword, Sanji’s blissed closed eyes shot open as he halted his movement. He was looking at the headboard until he heard you sob. His heart sank as he pulled away from you and backed away slightly, far to give you space but close enough to be able to check on you.

“baby, are you okay?” He looked at you with concern in his eyes, his blue eyes glimmer in worry, guilt written all across his face, “I am so sorry, darling, I should’ve guessed that you weren’t comfortable…”

You reached out for his hand and shook your head as you got closer to him, “don’t apologize, I thought I also needed this, but I guess I don’t”

That didn’t reassured his guilty self one bit, so you began stroking his face and placed your forehead on his.

“It’s okay, Sanji, I’m okay.”

Sanji just pulled you in to his embrace and you hugged him back as you relax onto his arms.

“I’ll never hurt you, nor will I allow anyone to hurt you… You’re too precious to be hurt…”

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

[inevesgf]

dating headcanons • formula one

request rules here.

formula one masterlist here.

summary → what dating some of the formula one drivers would be like and their love languages. includes verstappen, norris, sainz, leclerc, piastri, and ricciardo. female!reader x driver, gn!reader x driver.

authors note ꕤ missed doing little head canons so i decided to group them all together <3 hope u lot enjoy. definitely going to start writing more for f1!!! my apologies because i wrote a lot for some drivers and not that much for some of the others, oopsies..

MAX VERSTAPPEN … will try to seem like such a casual lover, but is probably secretly obsessed with you. loves having you at every race because you overall uplift his mood a lot. he’s usually a bit stressed before races, being a perfectionist, but having you there instantly calms him down. he tries his hardest to see you immediately after every race even though press and his crew always gets to him first. if he isn’t able to see you after the race, he spends the rest of the night keeping you by his side rather you guys are staying in or going out to party. even though he can be very busy, he always makes sure to set time aside to be with just you. if he ever so has to cancel on plans, he is always sure to make them up ten times better than they were originally supposed to be. i believe max’a love language is probably physical touch. after a rough day, he just likes to lay in bed or on the couch with you. lazy days in are something max enjoys a lot, especially considering he is almost always busy. like i said, he loves to cuddle and have nice, sweet, and deep conversations with you about life, racing, etc. he trusts you and basically only you wholeheartedly with a lot of information.

LANDO NORRIS … lando is probably one of the most loving boyfriends in the world. when having you at his races, he always claims you to be his ‘good luck charm’ and having you there overall raises his hope and confidence for the race. after making pole multiple times and winning in miami, he always makes sure to see you right after as he treats seeing you there as a special gift. when hes not home and isn’t able to see you, he surprises you with little gifts that he sends to you and even makes sure he can talk to you on the phone as much as possible. when he’s home, he plans special date nights that are just you two without any interruptions. he orders out takeaway sometimes just so you two can have alone time and snuggle up to watch a movie. lando also definitely loves to go out on fun dates including things like going on a drive with no destination, or roller skating even if he may be horrible at it. he loves to plan stupid, small dates that involve going on rides or even getting takeout and having a make shift picnic in your backyard. lando loves when you show interests in his hobbies as he shows interests in yours too. he’s down to watch any movie you like and participate in your hobbies because what makes you happy, makes him happy. when you show interest and racing and even suggest karting together, lando is is over the moon to share a piece of his interests and specialty with you. when out in public, he isn’t afraid to hold your hand and even give you a small kiss or hug when it’s appropriate. he always makes sure you are comfortable with his small acts of love and wants you to feel nothing but comfort in his presence. once again, lando is definitely another physical touch person as he likes to be as close to you as possible. when he isn’t able to be around you, he messages you sweet words of affirmation and gets the point across that he loves you so much no matter how far away or busy he is. he loves seeing you wear his close, especially anything that represents mclaren as he finds it so cute. lando lets you borrow some of his clothing while he is gone so that a piece of him is always with you.

CARLOS SAINZ … carlos is the kind of boyfriend you have absolutely wrapped around your finger. carlos is extremely loving, and no matter how busy he is, he will always shows his love for you. like the others, carlos loves having you at his races and cheering him on from the crowd. he loves knowing that you are there as it gives him more motivation to push as hard as he can at every race. there’s no doubt that carlos likes to let loose and party, but if he had to choose between that and spending time with you, he would spend time with you instead. after races, not depending on how good or bad they go for the driver, he likes to spend his time relaxing with you. carlos’ love language is the perfect combination between gift giving and physical touch. the driver also peppers you with kisses at the most random to show just how much he appreciates you. he loves to be near you and hold you, but he also spoils you with gifts from other countries he has gone too even if there wasn’t a special occasion while he was away. during the off season, he spends as much time as possible with you. carlos doesn’t care if the two of you are having a lazy day in or a big day out, he treats spending time with you as a special moment every time.

CHARLES LECLERC … charles is very confident in being in a relationship. he knows how to be a good boyfriend as well as the difference between right and wrong. he is very caring, but knows when to give you space and respects when you need it. charles enjoys spending time with you as it allows and appreciates that you two still have a loving relationship when he’s away. if you cannot attend races, he makes sure he can check up on you during the day and gets excited when you get the chance to watch his race form home. he appreciates receiving messages after races of you cheering him on as it goes on. accompanying this, charles main love language is definitely words of affirmation alongside physical touch. he loves to be near you and shows a lot of signs of casual intimacy as well as general intimacy. being away a lot, charles always makes sure to send you sweet messages that get the point across of how much he loves and cherishes being with you. he plans small little date nights that involve you two cuddled up playing a game together or watching a movie. charles prefers to stay inside for most date nights as he likes spending time with just you and only you in that moment.

OSCAR PIASTRI … oscar strikes me as the kind of boyfriend who goes with the flow. if you show interests in seeing a movie or going out to a place to eat, he plans dates revolving around the subject. much like lando, oscar likes whatever makes you happy. when you ask him what he would like to do, oscar is the kind of person to always say he wants to do what you want. you feel bad about it, but he always assures you that he just loves spending time with you. oscar’s love language is definitely words of affirmation and quality time. he constantly assures you how much he loves you and that time with you is like paradise to him, whether you overthink it or not. due to being away so often, oscar loves to do things that you like because he knows how long you have been waiting for that quality time. oscar will sometimes take lead as well and plan dates to show bits and pieces of his interests to you which ultimately strengthens your relationship and bond. after every race, oscar is always eager to message you or see you, knowing you two know how to hype each other up and calm each other down. his eyes light up whenever he sees you and it is always like he has fallen in love with you over and over again.

DANIEL RICCIARDO … daniel is a massive golden retriever boyfriend. he is a very “go-along-to-get-along” partner and is agreeable when planning dates amongst each other. he is very into the idea of planning dates and events that the two of you would mutually enjoy and that creates wonderful memories for the both of you. daniel is very open with your love and isn’t afraid to show affection. he is proud that you are his partner and flaunts you off to his friends, fans, and family by expressing how much he loves you. though you may not be able to see each other as often as you may see other people in your life, he is very optimistic about your relationship and makes sure you feel the same way about it. much like a golden retriever, daniel is very energetic when he is with you. he is always down for an adventure, no matter how ridiculous it may seem to be. your presence relaxes him as well, which is why he adores cuddling. daniel’s love language is the perfect mix between quality time, physical touch, and words of affirmation. he loves to spend time with you rather it’s going to hang out with friends, having a lazy day in, or a big night out between the two of you. he isn’t afraid of pda, but does not overdo it. he shows casual forms of intimacy in public by holding your hand and placing small kisses on your cheek or forehead. daniel always makes sure you know how much you mean to him and he appreciates the words of affirmation in return.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Could you do a fluffy cute fic about Eddie being insecure about his scars after being attacked by the demobats, one where he wouldn’t show his body to reader anymore and then finally feels comfortable enough to show reader and reader comforts him!! Thank you!!!:)

Um, yes, I love this!! So sorry it took me so long to get to this!

cw: Eddie has body insecurity

Eddie x gender neutral!reader

You and Eddie had been together for a few months and he had yet to take his shirt off in front of you. It wasn't because he thought you would have judged, but more that he was so embarrassed about what his torso looked that he didn't want anyone to see it. He was so terrified that people would think it was gross and it was. At least to him.

You had been very aware of the situation and assured Eddie that he could show you when he was comfortable. That there was no rush. You had no idea what that felt like, so you thought that you had no room to rush him. But you could definitely sympathize. You wanted him to know that he was safe with you and that it wouldn't have mattered if he never took his shirt off.

The two of you were lying on your bed when he had made the decision. Being with you felt like being wrapped up in a blanket that was fresh from the dryer. He felt more safe with you than anyone else and trusted that you wouldn't laugh him and that you would have assured him that his scars didn't change anything about him. You'd still love him no matter what.

He crawled off of the bed and stood in front of it, completely blocking your view of the TV to get your attention. He felt tears welling up in his eyes as he slowly lifted his shirt up and you were quick to turn the TV off as you got off the bed to stand on front of him.

You rested your hands on top of his, your eyes searching his for any sign that he was uncomfortable, but all you could see were the tears. You wiped them away from his eyes and rested your hands against his cheeks, making him look you in the eyes.

"You don't have to do this," you assured him, wanting him to know that you weren't forcing him to do it.

"I know," he nodded. "But I want you to. I feel like I owe it to you."

"Honey, you don't owe me anything," You shook your head. And Eddie really didn't owe you anything. His presence was always more than enough for you and would continue to be for the rest of your lives.

"I know I don't, but I just want to show you. Please?" The last word came out as a whisper and you nodded and stepped away, but Eddie just grabbed your hands and guided them to the hem of his shirt.

Together, you lifted his shirt over his head and it fell to the floor beside his feet. You let out a gasp as you took in his torso. Not because it was ugly, but because of how deep all the scars were. They looked like they were painful, but he didn't seem to be in any pain, physically, anyway.

"Can I touch them?" You asked, your voice so low, as if you felt like you shouldn't have been asking that, but Eddie nodded furiously. The fact that you weren't disgusted by him made him let out a sigh of relief. The weight on his shoulders had lifted and he was finally free.

"Please," he begged and took your hands, guiding them to his bare skin. As soon as you touched them, you were thrown into a flashback. You remember getting the call that he was in the hospital and that the outcome didn't look good. You rushed down there just as they had assigned him a room.

Eddie was joking around with the nurses as if he hadn't almost just lost his life and you rushed to him and threw yourself into his arms and cried, so grateful that he was still there and that you didn't have to bury him.

"Eddie," you gasped. "They're beautiful," You told him, your own eyes getting misty.

"Really?" His face lit up.

"Really," you nodded. "Now come here," you beckoned him forwards and pulled him into your arms and the both of you cried into each other's shoulders as he reached a big milestone, knowing that you had his back literally and metaphorically always and forever.

[cvnt4him]

How I think certain guys would be w a chubby gf bc who doesn't love chubby girls??

..............................................

T.Iida.

He definitely doesn't really care ab weight, he was js surprised someone wanted him.

He does care about you gaining weight because the risks that can come from being overweight scare him more than it does you.

He tries to occasionally get you to eat healthy and consider doing a diet [he would try so hard to say it in a chill way to not anger you or if you're like me, a sensitive chubby person, he'll try so hard not to make you cry to the point you stop eating lol!!!].

He overall just wants the best for you, and if you've really begun to love yourself regardless of how you look, love handles, belly fat, stretch marks, cellulite n what not then he will too, he only wants to love you, he feels like it's his soul purpose other than becoming a hero to honor his brothers name or whatever the fuck.

Hes mainly big spoon bc I feel like he's js programmed like that, but he likes laying his head on your tummy while you rub his hair, he'll take his glasses off n js lay there w you. My cutie pie fr

Bite his tiddie make his dick twitch

..............................................

K.Bakugou.

Loves chubby women.

Like he loves it ALLL like hip dips? Yes. Stretch marks? Yupp. Tummy fat? Yummers!!! N when you have fat thighs bro??? He fr LOVES being in between them can't convince me otherwise.

I feel like he would call you cringe shit like chubs js to make fun of you in that cutesy little couple way so bc yk he's obviously joking you don't take it to heart too much bc yk I'm a sensitive cunt so regardless some things pull on my sensitive little heart strings.

He likes to bite your everything. He just loves it bro, leaving hickeys on your skin is js perfection to him.

He loves being big spoon mainly because you are shorter than him, but he just loves holding you either way, squishing every little inch of fat he can get his huge warm palms on.

Sit on his lap, he loves it, the feeling of your weight comfortably sitting on top of him makes him hard fr.

I feel he benches alot like bro I feel like he can take at least maybe ab 300Ibs bc bro, let's keep in mind he was capable of handling OFA in that one movie, at the beginning of the series it was stated you had to have some kind of muscle/mass to handle it n like to not get your shit blown off so yh he can definitely carry you.

He js loves holding you and tightly gripping onto your chub.

..............................................

E.Kirishima.

Chubby chaser, like the definition.

I feel like he respects women the most out of everyone in the class even the girls, he js screams 'I'm an ally to women' bro. Try n change my mind. You can't.

He loves everything about you regardless, skinny chubby, big boobs small boobs, full lips thin, everything about you is mesmerizing to him simply because you just... Are.

Are what you may ask?

You simply just are.

You're like the it girl in his eyes, a goddess, the only being he wants and craves to worship. He loves holding you like bakugou, feeling and seeing your chub in his hands and the way it like squished out in between his fingers when he grabs onto a part of your body that holds a lot of fat, like your tummy or thighs or boobs he'll go berserk.

You turn him on so much you can make out for 3 seconds n his dick is hard as a rock [pun intended bc that's his quirk.]

He doesn't care what spoon he is as long as you're near him, he loves when you rake your fingers through his freshly washed hair and when you kiss his scalp that needs a new coat of dye.

[ bc you're bat shit crazy if you think I'm going near his crunchy ass greasy ass dandruff infested looking like a dandelion field ass head if this mf aint wash it. I'm so dead ass miss me w all that bullshit bc no.. it's that serious. Ik his shit stink stink.]

All slander aside he's a sweetheart and deserves to be loved.

He likes picking you up I feel like, like he'll js randomly throw you over his shoulder for the fun of it.

..............................................

M.Izuku.

My husband, the loml, my twinky little wifey, my male wife, my babygirl, my pookie sugar hunny sweetie bear pie, my zuzubear.

He loves whatever he can get, just like iida. He doesn't realize he actually pulls bitches so when you confess to him [infront of ochako bc I'm a messy bitch] he absolutely blows his top, bc you're really pretty to him heavy or not you're fucking perfect.

He loves being little spoon convince me other wise [you can't don't try🤦🏽‍♀️] he likes being held like a baby bro don't even try arguing bc I'm not even going to reply. He likes laying on your boobs because he's a pervert.

Like he's so perverted if he is on the rare occasion, being big spoon he gets hard when you rub your ass against his dick while you're trying to get comfortable, you love getting dicked down by a powerful mf that can man handle you, don't get me wrong, however it can be tiring fucking someone who has a lot of stamina and can never seem to be tired. Which is why he's semi banned from being big spoon.

He's such a pervert bro, like he fr has It written down in his notebook that mt lady has a fat ass, I js know he writes shit down ab anything that even involves you whether it be sexual or not.

Your boobs seem to feel slightly heavier in his hands? Jotted down. Ass seems to have gotten fatter? Already sketched a very detailed picture of you in a bikini of his hero suit.

Now that we're on the topic of him being far too artistic for my liking, you can't tell me he doesn't draw you in such lewd ways like I'm talking you as a secretary busting out of the seams of your shirt.

Like he fr draws you being fucked by little squid arms like in hentai or whatever. He watches alot of porn so he knows what he likes to see and what hed like to see from you. He's a gooner fr can't convince me otherwiseeee

He's a total goofy goober though, if you talk a certain way or are from a certain region where talking with some sort of accent is shown he will like steal your lango yk? Like the little things you say like if you're British and you say 'bruv' he'll start saying it, or if you say shit like 'goofy' or 'type shit', or insert other things, he'll say it. Even if he doesn't know what it means he js wants to impress you so bad!!

Speaking of which, he definitely impressed you w how good he is at eating puss bro, like there's certain mha guys I feel are js too good at cunnilingus.

he is one of them.

He follows you around in any store and like watches you like a hawk, you'll never get lost bc he doesn't leave your side, shopping for pads or other femininely products? Who gives a fuck you're his girlfriend!!!!

Now I feel he likes to have you sit on his face bc he likes the weight, he also likes carrying you around he def can n yk that so don't even put it past him bc he will not hesitate to pick you up so you can rest your little footsies.

He worships you like kirishima but better, you literally will not have to lift a finger w him around.

I feel as if overall w you being chubby n his gf he doesn't give af if you have weight or not, he js wants you to like him n call him your little malewife.

Speaking of wife I feel he can't cook for shit but is trying to learn for you.

Kiss his neck make him soak his shorts in precum.

..............................................

AN: yk I had to go all out w my baby zuzubear my little twinky malewife, I love me some him. I might make a pt 2 really depends.

[ush1wakas]

“Do you think Tendou plays better than me?”

SUMMARY: The Super Ace of Shiratorizawa overheard a conversation between his teammates and his crush... and he did not like it. PAIRING(S): Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader WARNINGS: fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit ooc (?) NOTES: I will definitely make this a series. Also, I love Ushiwaka with all of my heart so I kinda wrote this for myself HAHAHA OMG TOSHI NEEDS MORE LOVE!!!

The first time Ushijima Wakatoshi met you was when you went to the gym to return Tendou Satori’s book. Apparently the two of you had gotten your books mixed up. After profusely apologizing, Tendou had asked the stoic captain to accompany you while he ran to the locker room to get your book from his bag. 

Awkwardly, Ushijima carried out his mission, making small talk with you (the small talk was asking for your name and class, then proceeding to stay silent). His first impression of you was that you’re quite shy and polite. He felt pleasantly surprised when you didn’t show an ounce of awkwardness even when the two of you stood silently. His teammates would always say that he’s bad at socializing and can often seem intimidating because of his quietness, but the silence that engulfed the two of you was comfortable and natural.

So imagine his surprise when Tendou returned and a switch in you immediately flips: there are not a lot of people who can match Tendou’s energy, but you easily adjusted yourself to his quirkiness, laughing along with his jokes. You waved to Tendou casually before turning to him and bowing slightly, bidding him goodbye with a “Well, see you around, Ushijima-kun.”

As time goes by, he starts to notice how you seem to appear more often. Sometimes you accompanied Tendou to the gym before going somewhere else, other times you arrived after the team finished practice, walking off with Tendou. The Shiratorizawa team has also gotten to know you as ‘(Name), Tendou’s friend’, as you’re really the only person they have seen Tendou hang out with.

To say that he is curious is an understatement. He can’t deny that he really wants to know who you are. Since when did Tendou have such a pretty friend? Why didn’t he ever tell him about you, when he would yap about anything and everything? Were you dating?

“Oh, she’s my seatmate. She’s a really cool kid, so we kinda vibe.” Was Tendou’s answer when he asked more about you. Truthfully, he wasn’t satisfied with that answer. But he kept quiet because he felt weird asking questions about his friend’s friend.

And then, that thing happened.

It was just another afternoon. The team just finished practice, everyone was chatting amongst themselves, and you were there again to pick up Tendou. Lately Goshiki and Ohira had also joined your conversations with Tendou, and the four of you were chatting away happily.

Ushijima pretended to drop his towel near the four of you and took his sweet time to pick it from the ground, shamelessly eavesdropping on your conversation.

“So, you’ve watched our matches, right? Do you think we did just as well as when we practice?” Goshiki asked curiously.

You hummed, “I don’t know much about volleyball, but… I think so, yeah! It’s always fun watching you guys play.”

“Then…” Ohira looked at you, “who do you think plays the best?” He asked, half jokingly.

“That’s an easy question, senpai,” Goshiki interjected, “Of course it’s gotta be our ace, right?”

“Yeah, that’s not fair! You should’ve asked for second best.” Tendou begrudgingly agreed.

Ushijima’s ears perked up as he pretended to wipe his forehead, turning around to look the other way with his feet still rooted to the ground. His heart started beating a bit faster at the thought of you complimenting him. ‘Logically speaking, I usually score the most points, so it can be said that I play the best, right?’

“Actually,” You grinned, “I have a different opinion.”

“Ehhh?? Really?? No way!!” Goshiki exclaimed excitedly, “Senpai, you think I’m better than our team’s ace?!”

“Hey now, she didn’t say that…”

“Maybe soon, Goshiki-kun. But now, I think… Tori-kun plays the best!” You cheered as the three boys cried out in surprise.

“Tendou?! Really?! Umm, no offense to you, Tendou..”

“Well, I have to admit, the Guess Monster is terrifying when he gets all pumped up…”

“Ehhh, (Name)-chan, you’re making me blush!”

Ushijima’s skin crawled.

“I’m not lying! The way your hand suddenly changes directions and BOOM! Blocked! I’m like, how the heck does he do that?!”

“Damn, Tendou, it must be nice to have a friend who hypes you up like (Name)-san.”

“Oh, but you’re really cool too, Reon-kun! I mean, that’s not even up for debate! And you too, Goshiki-kun! I think one of these days you can become the new ace!”

“Ehhhh!??! Senpai, I like you!”

“Don’t feed into his delusions.”

Ushijima knew that you were a kind person, and maybe you weren’t that familiar with volleyball, or you were just trying to make your friends happy, but…

He gripped his towel.

Hard.

BAM!

The ball went flying through Tendou’s outstretched arms at such a speed that he thought it would blow his head off with it.

Tendou was used to Ushiwaka’s spikes. He was the Super Ace’s teammate, after all, but… He looked up, his heart nearly stopping when he saw the expression on Ushijima’s face.

Like he was going to swallow him whole.

“Don’t mind, Tori-kun!!”

Upon hearing your cheer, Tendou raised an eyebrow at how his captain’s expression twisted even more. He put on a wronged face as Ushijima gave him a glare and turned away.

‘What did I do?!’

Next to him, Ohira Reon was gasping for breath. He had been running around, digging balls and sending spikes, trying to win the 2v2 against Ushijima Wakatoshi and Semi Eita. But it was just not working. Of course it wasn’t working, the game was rigged! Whoever got Ushiwaka on his team is playing with cheats!

On the other side of the net, Semi glanced at Ushijima in hesitation. Ushijima had played like a cannon, receiving the ball perfectly for him to set and missing no beat in jumping and spiking the ball, sometimes right into the hands of his teammates on the other side, only for the ball to immediately bounce away. He could’ve aimed it elsewhere, but… to aim it towards Tendou and Ohira’s hands was like highlighting that even if the ball made contact with their hands, they couldn’t receive it anyway.

Well, it wasn’t that hard to guess where Ushijima would spike the ball. To be able to receive those spikes, though… now that was a skill on its own. Especially when he was playing like he’s trying to impress an Olympics coach.

To no one’s surprise, the practice ended with Ushijima-Semi’s win. Well, it was more like Ushijima’s win, with more than half of the points being his service aces. On any other day, their opponents would put up more of a fight, however Tendou had said earlier that he was feeling a bit under the weather.

Pretending like he didn’t hear anything, Ushijima insisted on playing against Tendou and Ohira, choosing not to cut Tendou any slack, spiking balls to his direction like he was trying to hit him on purpose. Ohira was no better, getting almost no chance to spike since receiving Ushijima’s unusually harder-than-ever spike serves was a real struggle in itself.

Tendou and Ohira regrouped with Semi and exchanged glances with the rest of the team, wondering what on earth caused their captain’s horrible mood. Ignoring their stares, Ushijima walked towards the person he had been focusing on.

“(Name).” Towering above you with a height of 189cm, Ushijima addressed you stoically, causing you to gasp in surprise.

You looked up at him. “Y.. yes, Ushijima-kun?”

“Did I do well?”

Flabbergasted, your mouth hangs open. “W-well, I..” Your eyes flitted at your friends but they only returned your glance with their own shocked silent stare.

“Well? Do you still think that Tendou plays better than me?”

You did a double take, your breath caught in your throat, the conversation you had with Tendou, Ohira and Goshiki a few days ago replaying in your head. “W-well, Ushijima-kun, it’s just that… Tori-kun is my friend, and-”

He bent down, gazing down at you in curiosity. “Do you think he plays better than me?”

“I-is there a wrong answer?” You breathed out at the close proximity between you two. Ushijima held his gaze, his eyes shining in amusement. You blushed at Ushijima’s confidence and obliviousness, thankful that Coach Washijo wasn’t in the room. “I-I-I think you play better than Tori-kun, sorry Tori-kun!” You yelled out, flustered.

Your friend could only give you a thumbs up, his mouth still hanging open.

“What about Ohira? Do you think he plays better than me?”

Gaping at him in shock, you stuttered out a “N-no, Ushijima-kun..”

Ushijima hummed, “And Goshiki?”

“No, you… you’re the best..” Horrifically embarrassed and confused, you finally gave him the answer he was looking for.

The entire Shiratorizawa team gaped at this hilarious interaction.

“I thought so as well.” Ushijima nodded, “But it still feels nice to hear it from you.” Satisfied, he rose up to his full height and turned to look at his team. “Why are you just standing there? Do you want to go for another round?”

Quickly, the team dispersed, no one wanting to be the victim of Ushiwaka’s spikes, all the while muttering about what the HECK just happened between Ushijima Wakatoshi and Tendou’s friend.

You sat, frozen in shock, not expecting that your crush would ask you a string of shocking questions while keeping his face so close to yours, as if challenging you to give him the wrong answers. Of course you thought he was the best, but you couldn’t admit that in front of your friends and his teammates!

Your cheeks still continued to burn even after Tendou plopped down next to you in confusion. “Well… that was something. My hand hurts.”

“Tori-kun, did I.. did I offend him somehow?!” You whispered to him in a panic.

“Honestly, that guy is a mystery. He usually doesn’t care about these things, though.” Your friend replied with a knowing look in his eyes, “But just to be sure, talk to him, I guess?”

After the practice, the rest of the team headed outside while Ushijima busied himself with his bag, as if waiting for you to talk to him. After saying goodbye to your friends, you took determined steps towards the tall male, your heart beating out of your chest.

“Ushijima-kun!” You called out as he instantly turned to look at you, “I-I’m sorry if I offended you! I don’t know much about volleyball and aces and stuff, so I was just yapping about Goshiki being the new ace and-”

“Oh, I don’t really care about that.” Ushijima cut you off, staring blankly at you.

“H-huh?”

“That won’t ever happen, at least not while I’m still on the team.” He stated as-a-matter-of-factly, “I am the country’s top three aces, after all.”

You had to admit, his confidence was hella attractive. “But then… why were you angry earlier, Ushijima-kun?”

“Wakatoshi.”

Your heart jumped out of your chest once more.

Ushijima didn’t seem to notice your flustered state. “Call me Wakatoshi.”

“Well, then.. Wakatoshi-kun, why did you..”

“I’m not angry.” He cut you off again, before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Did I scare you? I apologize.”

“No, you didn’t scare me! But… it’s more like… well, your face was so close, and I…”

Tilting his head, he leaned down to gaze at you, his face dangerously close. “Like this?”

“W-Wakatoshi-kun!”

He hummed, looking away. “What to do, I’m still not satisfied.” You blinked up at him owlishly, waiting for him to continue, “You always call Tendou so intimately. I wonder why, but I’m not satisfied with you just calling me by my first name.” He stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, catching you off guard.

For a second you wondered if Ushijima Wakatoshi was flirting with you, but the way he said those words so stoically made you unsure. “Then!” Gathering all your courage, you bravely met his gaze, “Is Toshi-kun… okay?” You offered shyly, feeling your ears start to burn.

Ushijima tilted his head to the other side, his eyes widening slightly. “Say that again?”

“Toshi-kun?”

“We’ll go with that.” He placed a hand on your head, a smile ghosting his lips as you hide your face behind your hands.

And that day was the start of your friendship(?) with Ushijima Wakatoshi.

BONUS:

[spacerockfloater]

Alicent and Criston have every right to be together.

I’ve read a lot of posts regarding their non-existent hypocrisy and I’d like to clear some things up.

First and foremost, stop using Alicent’s “Where is duty, where is sacrifice?” line against her or Nyra’s outrageous “Exhausting, wasn’t it?” speech because you think you’re eating when you’re, in fact, starving. Alicent has done her duty and sacrificed herself. It’s the only thing she’s been doing for the past 20 years. She gave the man she was forced to marry four children and she took care of him despite all the shit he put her through. She has lived all her life based on her principles and now her husband is gone. She mourned him, she buried him, it’s been more than 10 days since his death (confirmed that E1 S2 takes place 10 days after Lucerys’ death) and she is finally fucking free. She deserves a sliver of comfort. Alicent is the only one in this series that’s been faithful and dutiful to a T, yet look where that got her. If someone has the right to break the law a little bit, it’s definitely her.

That being said, I don’t know when it was decided that Alicent is a pious saint that can do no wrong, but I need to remind y’all that following a religion does not magically prevent you from sinning. Is she committing fornication? Obviously. However, you are all under this impression that this is hypocritical on her behalf because she berated Rhaenyra for it when they were younger, without considering that her anger was justified for a myriad of other reasons, such as (but not limited to): 1) the fact that Rhaenyra’s freedom to marry whomever she pleased was a privilege granted to her thanks to Alicent’s efforts, who supported her even if Rhaenyra hated her, yet her friend casually threw that away, 2) the fact that Rhaenyra lied to her by swearing on her morher’s grave and never even mentioned Criston, 3) the fact that Rhaenyra had the guts to call her “sister” while lying to her face, 4) the fact that her lies resulted in Otto getting fired since Rhaenyra misled Alicent so that she speaks to Viserys in favour of her friend and betraying her own father by siding against him (a decision she wouldn’t have made if she knew the truth), leaving her completely alone and friendless at court, even if he was right all along and finally 5) the fact that Rhaenyra is the most sought after bachelorette in the whole world and by having sex she undermines herself (Rhaenyra knows this well, hence why she denies these accusations) and literally endangers herself, because had she been married to any other man but Laenor and had this man found out his wife and future queen is not a virgin, imagine the fucking horrors she could have been subjected to. Like, I hate to break it to you, but a 40-year-old widow, who’s had four kids and has completed her duty to the point where she is actually no longer needed and could leave the palace to go live the rest of her life in peace somewhere else and no one would notice her absence (literally though, she has birthed heirs, her husband is dead, her son is a grown adult king, her job is done there), having sex, is not the same as an 18-year-old princess and future heir in her prime, whose purity is linked to her worth, getting caught drunk in a brothel, hooking up with her uncle and losing her virginity to her guard, all in one night. Viserys himself was outraged. There’s lows and then there’s lows, y’all.

By the way, the crazy assumptions that Alicent has been cheating on Viserys with Criston for a while now need to stop. When Olivia Cooke said that they had filmed a messy sex scene with Fabien Frankel in a recent interview, she never said this was for S1 of HOTD. I don’t know where y’all got that from, but even if it was true, that scene has been scrapped so it is not canon. And don’t make me laugh about Daeron, a dragon rider who canonically has Valyrian features, potentially having brown hair. You’re all so blinded by your hatred for Alicent that you want her to be a lying hypocrite in order to make yourselves feel better about Rhaenyra’s mishaps, that you don’t get that the whole point of her and Criston getting physical is that she is a tortured woman who is finally able to break free, not that she has been a hypocrite all along. You’re heavily misunderstanding her arc.

Finally, when it comes to my good man Criston, y’all have lost it completely. No, Alicent is not raping him, unless he tells her to stop and she closes the door behind her like Rhaenyra did that is. No, Criston did not lie about how important his honour is to him. There’s a whole article on how Clare Kilner, the director of E4 S1, decided that Cole removing his armour slowly was necessary because it symbolises his inner conflict and uncertainty over breaking his vow: should he soil his cloak for the sake of the woman he loves? And he does soil it, because he thinks she loves him back. But that honourable man dies the day Rhaenyra tells him that he’ll never be anything more than a side piece to her. This man stops giving a flying fuck about his honour, oath, position and life. He is trying to kill himself. And you know what stops him? Alicent. Alicent is the only thing between him and death, the only person to show him kindness and understanding, to pull him up from the lowest point in his life. I don’t think you heard Alicent in E7 S1: “No, you’re sworn to me!”. Y’all. His life is hers. He doesn’t care about Rhaenyra, his job, Viserys, anyone else at this point. Only Alicent exists in his mind, Fabien himself has said time and time again that his loyalty to her is unwavering. He only exists for Alicent’s sake. He’s who you wish Daemon was. Crying that “Criston is a bad knight and a liar because he broke his chastity oath yet again!” is so pointless because that knight has been dead since Rhaenyra’s marriage to Laenor. What does an oath mean when you find out the people you swore it to have betrayed you?

[suashii]

— 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓈𝓃𝒶𝒸𝓀 ౨ৎ

miya atsumu x reader. 0.8k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ papa!atsumu ﾉ repost!

a/n: another drabble for father's day — atsumu's turn! here's kuroo's version if u wanna give it a read :3

in the dead of night, something is making noise.

at the muffled racket, atsumu shoots up with a start. he’d blame it on his years of being a father, but during moments like these, atsumu is glad that he’s become a light sleeper. he turns to his right to see if you too had heard the noise, but you’re still sound asleep. after spending nearly an entire day with the kids, he can’t say he’s surprised to see that you’re out like a light.

tossing the comforter aside, atsumu stands up. his eyes begin to adjust to the darkness as he makes his way to the bedroom door. slowly—quietly—his hand takes a hold of the knob, pulling it towards him. the first thing he notices is that the door across from yours is open. he definitely closed it on his way out after putting the kids to bed. panic floods his chest at the thought of an intruder in his children’s bedroom, but the feeling quickly subsides once the strange noise returns. because it isn’t a strange noise, it’s a small voice—two small voices.

“help me!”

“shh! you gotta be quiet.”

atsumu steps out of the room, quietly padding down the hallway. he stops just before the kitchen and right out of their sightline to get a look at the show. the two have dragged a chair from the table and positioned it in front of the counter. as her brother holds the chair steady for her, the little girl climbs up on the piece of furniture. it makes atsumu anxious to see them so comfortable with the lousy set-up, but he’s more than ready to jump into action if it even looks as though she’s losing her balance.

“i can’t reach,” she pouts. her eyes find their way to the counter as if she is considering climbing on it.

“move, i got it.”

“no, i want to.”

“just move,” the boy tugs at the girl’s pajama shirt.

“no!”

atsumu’s first instinct is to chuckle at how quickly they turn from partners in crime to adversaries (it reminds him of another set of twins), but it’s better that he puts an end to their bickering before the two get into it further and someone ends up hurt. atsumu clears his throat to gain their attention.

their heads whip in his direction, two pairs of wide eyes identical to his own staring back at him.

“what are you rascals up to?”

“nothing,” they say in unison.

“really?” atsumu uncrosses his arms and makes his way over to the twins. “because it looks like you’re trying to get into the snack cabinet.”

he holds his arms out to his daughter. with a sigh, she grabs onto him so he can safely lower her down from the chair. the kids stand beside each other—obviously not too happy that they were caught. he wonders if this was the sight his mother was met with when he and osamu got into any sort of trouble.

“so, were you?” he questions. of course, he already knows the answer.

“maybe,” the boy confesses.

“only ‘cause we didn’t get one after dinner,” his sister quickly adds.

after telling you and atsumu how excited they both were to have received holiday treats in school, you both decided that they could go without their regular after-dinner snack for a night. he wonders just when the two of them started formulating this little plan of theirs. the smart little things even knew to wait until they thought you and atsumu were asleep.

“well, you already brushed your teeth for the night and it’s late, so you can’t have any sweets now.” both of the faces before him are painted with dejected frowns. he’s never liked seeing their lips turned downwards, but he has to be firm with this. though, that doesn’t mean he can’t strike a negotiation.

“but if you go back to bed now and don’t cause any trouble tomorrow, you both can pick out two snacks after you eat dinner.”

their eyes light up with joy at the thought of extra sweets. they don’t need long to think about accepting the deal. they turn on their heels, ready to return to their beds, but atsumu grabs both their hands before they can run off too soon. “one more thing.”

they stop in their tracks, seemingly exasperated that he isn’t allowing them to hold up their end of the deal. atsumu squats down to their level, each of his hands resting on top of their heads. 

“promise dad you won’t go climbing chairs on your own anymore. it’s not safe.”

the kids turn to look at each other before nodding their heads. “we promise.”

“good.” he scoops them both into his arms. they’re getting so big but atsumu won’t let that stop him from carrying them around like they’re still tiny, like they’re still the little babies he brought home from the hospital all those years ago. he plants a kiss on each of their cheeks. “now let’s get you gremlins back to bed.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[hxnbi]

Heyy!I love your writing abt the windbreaker I was wondering since your Chinese Is it possible to make smth hayato suo x chinese!reader??Im dying to have content abt chinese reader! Like when we use hanfu or douyin makeup just something abt chinese culture 🫶 When I first watch it i fell inlove because of the recognition 😭🫶 hope its not too much to ask thankyou!

yesss i love suos design and his character! he's defo my fav in the story so far. this is my first request so i hope it lives up to your expectations :) much of the info i gathered on him was from the wiki so hopefully the info is accurate enough

look at this lil bean 🥹

HAYATO SUO | 蘇枋 隼飛  ─ 🧧 °. ⁺ ♡

Admittedly, there aren't many people who look and talk like SUO, so he stands out like a sore thumb to the average onlooker. Suo is overall one of the most mysterious characters. His trademark tassel earrings and the Chinese-styled clothing that Suo likes to wear are intriguing and enigmatic. He definitely has that type of presence that's bound to make anyone take another glance. 

So when he sees you at the cafe where Kotoha works, finding you drinking a cup of tea with the grace of a seasoned connoisseur, he's all but smitten if not intrigued by your aura. The way that you presented yourself went far beyond than just how your appearance looked, though he was certainly entranced by that as well. 

That was the first time he encountered you, and unbeknownst to him, that was certainly not the last. As the next time would be when you caught sight of him "beating up" a couple of gangsters who had previously bothered Nirei, pissing him off enough for Suo to use his skills in mixed martial arts to intervene.

“Is that Aikido or Kung Fu? Hm, or perhaps both."

Suo turned to address the voice, finding that familiar face peering down at him, seemingly unfazed by the presence of the gangsters' bodies. 

Suo smiled. "I don't know. My master was self-taught and blended various martial arts techniques."

"Ah, mixed martial arts. How nice," you remarked.

The fact that you could identify so easily his emotions. Perhaps you were like him, if not familiar with the feelings.

From then on, Suo would see more of you, and so did you see more of him, much like a moth to a flame. Time and time again, he found himself crossing paths with you in this quaint café, each encounter leaving him more intrigued than the last. Suo couldn't help but notice the elegance emanating from your every gesture, from the subtle grace that seemed to cloak you like a second skin. 

"Did you want a cup as well? I have more to share," you offered, noticing how Suo had been looking at you for a moment, motioning towards the untouched teacup beside you. 

"If you are concerned if it is poisoned, then I assure you, it is not," you answered calmly as you proceeded to take another sip of your tea, further proving that it was indeed not poisoned, but that wasn't what Suo was curious about.

"Oh, no. I apologize if that's how it came across," Suo admitted, his tone tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "The smell is rather enticing and... familiar."

"Oh? Do tell," you encouraged, patting the seat next to you with an inviting smile.

His lips purse into a thin line before chuckling. "Why, it's nothing special. It just reminds me of past days."

With a blink, you hummed, hesitant to ask any further than that. As if you already knew. "I see."

And as fate would have it, you found yourself sharing more cups of tea with him amidst the cozy atmosphere of the cafe that surprised even the likes of Kotoha, watching the bond between you two with a keen eye. 

Suo being vulnerable may as well be a rarity, but that's exactly the way he felt when he and you would chat over tea. You were just as authentic when he first saw you. To be frank, you both were like two birds of a feather, finding solace in each other's company. A comfortable silence that Suo grew to cherish, much to the astonishment of those in Furin, who would have the uncomfortable experience of running into the cafe to eat, only to see Suo smiling with a person wearing similarly styled clothes to Suo, with the same calm-like demeanour and the same mannerisms.

You smiled, pouring another round of fragrant oolong tea. "Your knowledge is truly impressive. It's a rare quality to encounter." 

Suo nodded, recalling knowing the hooligans you were referring to, that being Sakura and Sugishita during one of the many times they fought in the middle of Kotoha's cafe and Nirei standing on the sidelines, shaking in dread.

"I'm flattered," he admitted, "but my knowledge only is minimal compared to the likes of yourself."

You chuckled softly, the sound mingling with the soft clatter of the teacups. "I suppose it's hard to conceal one's roots."

'Hard to hide where you come from, huh…?' Suo mused, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. As Suo's gaze lingered on you, his interest appeared to deepen beyond casual conversation

Perhaps, it was worth staying just a bit longer.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[n0tamused]

Hello

Would you feel comfortable writing about periods?

If so I wanted to request Jiyan and Mortefi comforting reader during one

Thank you in advance ^^

A/N: Thank you for the request! I went with writing hcs for this, since those are easier to get done. So I do hope you like them anon :)

Jiyan:

-He is not around too much to really be in tune with your cycles but he is no stranger to them. He was raised by his mother who was a medic and not really the person to evade the subject simply because he was a boy

-When he is around and not fighting Tacet Discords or some other beast out there, he will be tending to you. Be it by spending time with you, holding you as you sleep or holding hands as you browse the market down the street - he needs to make up for all the lost time while he was away

-For this specific scenario, Jiyan wouldn’t need much verbal confirmation from you that you’re on your period. He sees the way you hold one hand over your belly and sees the even more obvious - blood stains on the sheets.

-You won’t find any judgment from him, he doesn’t think twice before he’s already looking for new sheets to change the bed while you’re in the bathroom. This man has seen far worse things to even be made to raise a brow at a little bit of blood on the blankets. 

-Doesn’t make any fuss about it and asks whether you’d like him to prepare you anything to help with cramps or if you’d like a massage. And he is quick to tell you to lay down on the bed or sit at the dining table if you choose one or the other. Jue knows he’s tired as hell so when he sees you dozing off after taking medicine or getting your muscles worked out by his calloused big hands, he’s right there with you

-If you’d allow him, he’d spoon you and keep one hand on your abdomen. Sometimes he does it unconsciously too while cuddling, and the warmth of his hand definitely brings comfort and some ease from the aching pain there

-If you happen to be low on any hygiene products he can get them for you - although he will ask a lot about your preferred brands. If they don’t have X product, will Z product work for you? Or maybe a Y product? etc..

-Should you be feeling really emotional due to the wonders of a period, Jiyan is quite cautious to not upset you, and may lack in words a bit, offering you more silence if he sees that’s what would work for you. If you need reassurance he is there to give it to you too, he does strive for a good balance of everything, but he does prefer to communicate everything clearly. Tell him what you need, what you want him to do, and he is at it. 

-It’s all domestic fluff with this man, he’s really chill and only worries if you’re in huge amounts of pain or if you refuse his help.

-You’re in safe hands if Jiyan is there to help you.

Mortefi:

-May come off as a person that would be disgusted by periods or anything that makes a mess, but he is not.

-Although he does fret or fuss a little over any bloodied sheets or a spot on the couch, he is quick to reassure you it’s not your fault - In a nutshell, it comes off like he’s angry at your uterus or pads for letting it all out rather than you. You can’t help it

-He cleans it all up on his own, no one else can do it as perfectly as he needs it all to be

-Doesn’t mind if you stay in bed for longer, and he makes it a point to check up on you throughout the day, even if it happens to be a work day for him, he will make time to walk back home or at least send you a text or give you a call just to make sure you’re doing well

-Doesn’t let you eat much, or any, fast processed food. Instead you get to indulge into even more of his own cooking!

-Besides his favorites - deserts of all sorts - he is not half bad at making good, healthy dishes that hold an abundance of all things good for you

-It’s like having your own personal chef, and he surely does not disappoint. If you happen to be craving something specific and there’s not a food out there that encapsulates that taste, he figures out a new dish just for you

-He would love it if you were at the dining table while he was making all these foods because he loves to talk to you and hear you talk to him, it gives him time to remind you in his own way that he cares

-It feels like he mothers you at times, but he is sweet for it. Sometimes you may catch his ears being dusted with red blush if he says something more straightforward about these feelings.

-Mortefi would also make sure to bring home quality hygiene products. He’d rather not risk your skin getting irritated, he wants you to be comfortable. He gets you heat bottles too, sometimes he uses them too if he has a stomach ache or a particularly bad headache.

-Not big on cuddles but will indulge you all the way. You just need to slide up to his side and draw his arm over your shoulders and he’s pulling you further in. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Of Romance and Play Practice

@wolfstarbingo2024 - square: nerdy Remus - rating: G - no warnings - word count: 974 - based on @probs-reading's HC - AO3 link

To this day, Remus still couldn't figure out how they all were friends. They took up vastly different social circles. Like a smaller version of the Breakfast Club, he, Sirius, James, and Peter were as opposite as could be. James was the school basketball star, cheerleaders constantly hanging off his elbows (much to his boyfriend, Regulus's, disgust). Peter ran the yearbook, and was never seen without a notebook and a camera. Remus, of course, was the textbook definition of a nerd: he was the president of Chess Club, and took more AP classes than all of his friend combined. And Sirius....Sirius was perfect.

Sirius was the star of the theater program, having finally figured out how to put his dramatics to good use. He lived for the stage, and the audience ate him up no matter what his role. Of course, Remus ate him up, too. Or at least, he wanted to.

They'd all been friends since elementary school. Perhaps that was why they were able to stay close, no matter their differences. But Remus's crush on Sirius had developed quite recently, and for some reason, he couldn't shake it.

Perhaps it was the way Sirius oozed confidence. His smile was absolutely contagious and it made Remus literally weak at the knees, often times he had to sit down after Sirius grinned at him. Maybe it was the way he felt safe with Sirius. Though they loved to tease each other, Sirius never judged him when it mattered, and they'd been friends for so long, they knew each other as well as they knew themselves.

Of course, it helped that Sirius was fit as fuck.

But that wasn't it. It was...Remus couldn't help but feel warm when he looked at him. It was a bit disgusting, really.

But one night, when Sirius asked him to help run lines for the new play he was a part of, Remus agreed, because he wanted to help. He figured eventually, this crush would go away, so he should just continue spending time with Sirius like normal, acting like nothing was different. But when he read the name of the play, he froze.

"Erm...Romeo and Juliet?" he asked Sirius, who was sat on his bed, shucking his leather jacket and making himself comfortable.

"Mmm," he hummed noncommittally. "Good thing McKinnon's as flaming as I am, or I'd be dreading the kiss," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

And of course. Of course, Sirius needed him to practice running lines for the most romantic play in the fucking universe. What else?

"Alright," he murmured, sitting nervously on the edge of his own bed, as far from Sirius as possible. "Erm, what scene?"

"Let's start..." Sirius flipped through the script, stopping at a page and pointing. "There. I'm having trouble with the emotion, to be honest. If you could just read for McKinnon, that'd be amazing."

But Remus's stomach flipped as he looked over the script, recognizing the scene. The fucking balcony scene?

"Erm, alright," he nodded, trying to pull himself together. "How camest thou hither- er - tell me, and wherefore? Erm, the orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, of any of my, erm, kinsmen find thee here," he recited disjointedly.

Sirius chuckled and responded fluidly, "With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls. For stony limits cannot hold love out." His eyes were wide, genuine, and Remus became entranced as he listened. "And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me."

It took Remus a second to realize he was done. That it was his turn to respond. Because hearing Sirius speak of love like this, it was doing things to him. "Oh!" he nearly yelled as Sirius gave him an expectant look, jumping a bit. "Erm. If- if they to see thee, they will murder thee. Fuck, this is intense, huh?" he commented, scanning over the script.

Sirius laughed and ignored his comment, going on, "Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords. Look though but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity." He said those words with a small smile, eyes on Remus's.

"I...I would not for the world they saw thee here," Remus nearly-whispered, looking at the paper and back at Sirius, who was still watching him with a strange look in his eyes.

"I have night's clock to hide me from their eyes," he whispered, moving closer to Remus- and when had he gotten so close, they were side-by-side, now!- grabbing his hand lightly. "And, but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate than death prorogued, wanting of thy love."

Remus swallowed, drowning in the look Sirius was giving him, squeezing his hand and allowing the heat and tension to wrap around their bodies. He wasn't imagining it, was he? Was Sirius feeling it, too? The way the very air was pulsating, urging him to move forward, to bring their lips together?

He hoped so.

"Sirius," he murmured, his head hazy, hardly bothering to look at the book, too distracted by the moment.

But Sirius seemed to be contemplating something. "Move not while my prayer's effect I take," he murmured, causing Remus to wrinkle his nose in confusion, before Sirius leaned forward, hand grazing over Remus's jaw and pulling their lips together.

And it was like fireworks. Hearing Sirius talk about love with the words of a poet had just made Remus's crush bloom into something more, and he couldn't resist grabbing for him, wrapping his arms around the other boy, pulling him closer until they were completely entangled in each other, their lips and teeth fighting for control of the best kiss Remus had ever had in his life.

[bookshelf-dust]

soul made of honeybees

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @biillys

word count: 6,418

warnings: brief swearing, mentions of smoking, reader deals with body insecurities/dysmorphia, uses exercise as a punishment, all of the struggles that come with trying to accept oneself

synopsis: on a journey of becoming more active and trying to be happier in yourself, you find billy, who helps you develop a healthier relationship with exercising and shows you that your body should be celebrated for all it does for you.

a/n: well, what do we have here? my creative juices have begun to flow again, and this is the first fic to be born of that particular affair. in my head i’ve set this in the late 80s, maybe early 90s, where i imagine billy still works at the pool during the summers when he’s home from college. this is a situation i’ve found myself in over the past year, and i wanted a chance to explore it in this way and sort through some of my own experiences. i hope you will enjoy it. as always, happy reading! <3

————

Jane Fonda is a fucking fantastic woman. But right now, you hate her. 

She manages to look stunning and effortless with each kick of her legs; while you are sweating profusely, your shorts are up your ass, and your fingers are swollen from overheating. 

You hate exercising in the moment, but once her thirty minute video is over and her group of people in tights and tiny shorts are gone, admittedly you do feel better. Rinsing the sweat from your face, feeling your muscles ache the next day—it brings you some sort of satisfaction. 

Your body likes that you’ve gotten more active. 

But your own hatred for your body was the reason you allowed Jane Fonda into your home to begin with. Sick, right? You know it’s bad, and yet each time you squat, crunch, and press, you can’t stop yourself from wishing you were shaped differently. From looking at the toned and athletic bodies in Miss Fonda’s videos and imagining what it would be like to feel that comfortable in your own skin, to be so graceful and…perfect.

So, you continue to push yourself, in hopes that you’ll become more appealing, that if you keep doing this, there will come a point where you aren’t totally and completely disgusted with the body you’ve been given. 

Because at this point, you’ve truly convinced yourself that you cannot be happy in your body. Even if you have noticed your strength levels increasing and really want to push yourself more. But you won’t let that positivity ring free like the woman on your television always wishes you would. 

“You did a great job!” Jane’s voice rings throughout your living room as the workout video ends, and you scramble for the remote, having had enough of these cheery attitudes for one morning.

You sit back on your hands, stretch out your legs, and try to steady your breath. Your knees have carpet burn, and you can feel sweat dripping down your temples. 

You may be a heaving mess, but you need more. The workouts have gotten easy, and you need something new. 

A woman runs by outside your window in a bright pink leotard and blue jogging shorts, matching pink leg warmers meeting her tennis shoes.

I could try that, you think. Maybe I’d like running. 

You certainly didn’t like it in school, but most of that was the result of shitty phys-ed teachers and the fact that you were never the athlete those instructors wanted you to be. 

You push off the floor and stalk to your room, digging for the sneakers you know are buried in the back of your closet. You have to try this. You need to keep pushing yourself. And if you don’t do it now, with this sudden spark of energy, you probably never will. 

Five minutes. You can run for five minutes. And if you feel like you can after that time is up, you’ll do ten. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as you’re tying your shoes, shoving away the thoughts telling you that you’ll definitely not look as cute as that woman on the street or any other woman that goes for a run, their ponytail swaying and their cheeks perfectly pinked. 

But what does it matter? You have to try. You have to be productive and make something out of yourself. You can’t deal with the pulsing, clawing thoughts of self-hatred anymore. Your body has to change.

The only problem is that you haven’t yet realized your mindset must too.

The heat that swallows you up when you step out of your front door is almost enough to send you right back inside. But how disappointed will you be in yourself if you retreat that quickly? 

You let your body begin to walk before your brain can start to argue. Your street doesn’t really have a sidewalk, so you keep to one side as the cyclists and other joggers do, ensuring you won’t be in anyone’s way. Subconsciously, you’re already making yourself smaller even though there’s no one outside to judge you. 

You look down at your watch, noting the time, and start to run. Not as though you’re being chased by a serial killer—or a man—but enough that it counts as a run. Those first few seconds are blissful. You feel like a little kid as the adrenaline spreads through your veins. Like your mom has just called you in because dinner is ready, like you're racing against the sunset so that your feet land inside the door just before the streetlights flick on. 

You forgot what it was like to move your body in this way. To feel this momentary freedom. You make it about three minutes before your side starts to hurt, a telltale sign that you haven’t done this in far too long. The heat is starting to get to you too, but you said you’d go for five, and that’s what you’re doing. 

It’s pitiful, the way you press yourself to the inside of your front door, trying to catch your breath from that little bit of work. Why did it hurt so much more than everything Jane Fonda tells you to do? 

Maybe you’re not meant to be the athletic type. Or maybe I need to eat something, you think. I need to make a plan for myself. That could make it easier. 

You can’t eat with your shirt sticking to your back though, so you strip and turn the shower on, practically jumping under the cool stream of water. But not before you glance at your body in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Your hands find your stomach, eye each stretch mark and bit of cellulite. Each extra-soft spot of skin, every part of you that doesn’t conform to the vision you have in your head. 

You wish that five minute run had fixed everything. That you could magically look like an aerobics instructor and be happy in your own skin. Your eyes fill with tears, and you think for a minute that it could be better to just stop before you get ahead of yourself. What’s the point? You don’t know if you have it in you to wait and see results. And you know you won’t turn into someone else, won’t form a new shape…and then you’re spiraling. You can’t think of a single reason why exercising is worth it.

Because it can be fun. Because it pushes you and makes you stronger. You shove this tiny voice away and let your gaze flick back to the shower, where you’ve completely abandoned your cold sanctuary. You hop in and start scrubbing your hair, trying to think of anything that isn’t your body in that mirror, anything other than how much you looked like a fraud trying to fit in with everyone else. 

————

You continue on this way for a while longer: running in the mornings, doing as many of the Jane Fonda videos as you have access to at work, drinking more water, blah blah blah. One of the perks of working at the library is that you can check out as many tapes as you want. But you’ve done all of Jane’s workouts, and you need more. 

You could swim, but when is the community pool ever not full to the brim during the summer? You could try jazzercise. No. That’s just not for you. You could…go to the gym. 

The pool also has small gyms for both women and men, and you know the men’s one is usually very busy, but most of the women in Hawkins take part in other forms of exercise. And if you went in the mornings…you might have the place to yourself. You might could try and tone up. 

God, this sounds so stupid. 

And your heart rate picks up just thinking about doing this very new and very big and very embarrassing thing, but you want to do it. You’re going to try. 

Hopefully you’ll just go unnoticed. This is a totally normal thing for people to do, right? 

The community pool opens at ten during the week, but the doors to the gyms open at seven. And that’s what time you get there, out of pure fear that you’ll have to interact with another human and make a fool of yourself. But the universe must be looking out for you on this particular morning, because the door is unlocked, and you slip in without any hassle. 

Billy isn’t a morning person. He never has been, but an excuse to get out of his hellhole of a house before anyone else is up to fuck with him? Yeah, he jumped at that opportunity. 

Usually the manager opens the gyms and stays to open the pool during the summer, but he volunteered. Especially because he can usually get in a workout before his shift technically even starts. 

He’ll bench as much as he can without a spot, work on the pull ups he never tells anyone he struggles with. It just feels good to be able to use his muscles and push himself. Billy is proud of what his body can do, what it does for him, how it protects him—and he’s not ashamed to admit that.

His body is one of the only things he has control over, and he’s heard his share of people talking about how vain he is, how he shouldn’t spend so much time doing this or that. But he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s built a body he’s proud of and feels comfortable in, and truthfully he feels like everyone should be comfortable in their body without anyone else pushing them to look another way. 

Billy is leaning against his car, hands tangled in his hair in an effort to tie it up, a cigarette dangling loosely from his full lips when he sees you for the first time. 

He watches you get in your car, bag slung over your shoulder, interested only because he never sees another soul here this early. 

You’re pretty, he thinks. Your hairline shines in the morning sunlight, damp with sweat, your neck the same. Your sports bra peeks through your pale shirt, and one of your slouchy socks is hiked up higher than the other. You’ve clearly just finished working out, but he thinks you look breathtaking. 

There’s something about you. Something light and sweet that he can feel even from this distance, like something is telling him you have a good soul. 

The next time Billy sees you, you come out of the door looking frustrated—he assumes at yourself. He doesn’t want to bother you, but he would like to talk to you at some point. 

You turn around when you go to unlock your car door and lock eyes with him. Your heart stutters at the fact that someone has caught you, probably knows you were exercising. But he is gorgeous. You give him a small smile, and climb into the driver's seat. All you can think on the drive home is that it must be nice to be so effortlessly gorgeous. 

————

You continue on this way for weeks. Close to a month. You workout, you wave and acknowledge one another. This other person who you share this tiny thing with and who you are not judged by. 

On this particular day, you decide to be brave though. You packed a swimsuit, and you’re going to speak to that gorgeous boy and hope he doesn’t get freaked out by you. 

You place your weights back on the rack, the muscles in your thighs pulsing, your arms feeling like jelly. You’ve only worked your way up to the set of fifteens, but that’s something, right? 

You’re sweating, and dread walking outside into the swath of steadily climbing heat and humidity. Your heart pounds at the prospect of speaking to him. 

With your bag over your shoulder, you push open the door and step outside, jumping almost immediately. “Shit!” 

Billy laughs at your reaction, both because he hadn’t expected to frighten you, and because your jolt was pretty entertaining to witness. 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, “I didn’t mean to make you lose your shit, it’s just too hot to stand anywhere without shade.”

You lean against the cool metal door behind you. “Fuck,” you sigh. “My survival skills are clearly not what they should be.”

Billy laughs into his drink, taking a swig from the Coke he bought at the vending machine. 

“You headed out?” he asks, subconsciously fussing with a belt loop. 

“Well, yeah, I was. But um, I was going to ask a favor from you, if that’s okay?” You must sound like a dumbass, speaking to this man for the very first time, only to ask him for something.

“Shoot,” Billy responds.

“Do you think it’d be okay for me to swim a few laps in the pool? I know it’s not open yet, and I haven’t even told you my name, but I promise not to be a bother or anything. I just kind of wanted a chance to swim when there was no one else around, you know?”

Billy finishes his drink and tosses the can in the recycling bin inches from your hip. It lands with a resounding ping. 

You start to think this was a very stupid idea, and that maybe you should’ve just kept yourself at home like always.

“You can totally say no—”

“Yeah, sure I don’t see why not—”

Your words clash together and the both of you start to laugh. You raise your hand, gesturing for him to continue his thought. 

“It’s fine by me if you swim a little. I doubt you’re gonna trash the place.” He grins at you, dimples forming in his cheeks. “I’m Billy, by the way.”

A heat rises up your neck and washes over the tips of your ears. You tell him your name and thank him for letting you bend the rules. 

“Ah, fuck the rules. It’s just a community pool,” he winks, opening up the gate for you and telling you to have at it. 

You’d put your one-piece on underneath your workout clothes this morning, and you try to ignore the prick of shame, even disgust, that you feel having put your body in it as you wade into the pool. 

The water is cool, and as it drenches you, you feel lighter, somehow. You swim out to the deep end and push off the wall with your toes, propelling yourself underwater and kicking for as long as you can go while holding your breath. 

The little girl that still lives within your soul leaps to the surface, giddy with each push off the wall, each stroke of your arms underneath the water. She is excited. Free. 

She isn’t thinking about what your stomach looks like in this swimsuit or how stupid you probably look with your sloppy swimming skills. 

You swim for maybe twenty minutes, or at least until your shoulders are aching. You kick over to the wall, hoisting yourself up just that little bit so you can prop your elbows up on the warming concrete. 

You feel so light here that it almost makes you forget why you came. 

You hear footsteps and Billy appears from around the corner, a fluffy white towel in hand. 

“You getting out? I figured I’d come and make sure you hadn’t drowned.” 

You giggle. The sound makes him smile, pearly white teeth on display. Your eyes are drawn to his, where the summer sun has multiplied his freckles so much that they blanket his nose and the tops of his cheeks, washing over his temples. 

“I appreciate you looking out for my safety,” you say, climbing up the short ladder. Billy holds out a hand to help you steady yourself as you stand. You’re hesitant to take it because you’re all wet, but your hand moves before your mind takes control. “Thank you.” You give him a shy smile.

He grins at you and hands you the towel. You wrap it around your shoulders and follow him back under the awning when he starts walking away. Billy leans up against the cold brick wall and you stand, a little nervously, in front of him, trying to think of what to say. 

“I’ll admit, uh, it’s been nice to see someone else here so early in the mornings.” Billy lets out a huff of a laugh. “I was gonna ask though, why’d you pick this shithole to workout in?”

You pull the damp towel tighter against your torso. “It’s a quiet shithole,” you say. “And this whole exercising thing is pretty new to me, you know? I didn’t want to be somewhere people could see me like that.”

You realize how self-deprecating that comment was, realize you’re being too upfront, and try to quickly cover your ass. “What about you?” you ask, daring to make eye contact just to make sure he’s not disturbed. 

“Well, it came with the job,” he laughs, “and I love working out. Always have. Plus, it might be a shitty place, but the older equipment is a lot better than what newer gyms are using. So it works for me.”

Huh. 

“Oh. Nice.” You chew on your thumbnail. What a fuckup you are. 

Billy tilts his head, trying to encourage your gaze to raise to his. “What just happened?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

You look at him, his sunglasses pushed up into his hair and arms crossed in front of his chest. “It’s nothing…I just don’t really know what to say to someone who enjoys the gym? Who has a positive relationship with it and everything.”

A crease forms between Billy’s brows. “You’ve been crazy consistent with it, but you don’t like it?” He asks you, but based on your body language and how you’ve acted the past month every time you head out, everything adds up and Billy knows the answer before it even leaves your mouth. 

You shake your head, ashamed that you even brought this up. “No,” you laugh nervously. “I hate it. I only started because I’m unhappy with myself? So it’s more of a punishment than something that brings me joy.”

Billy’s chest squeezes at your words. That is exactly why he started working out all those years ago. To make himself stronger because he was ashamed his father had power over him. Because he wasn’t good enough for anyone, so out of anger he made himself more powerful.

But he doesn’t want you to feel that way. You shouldn’t be working out purely to punish yourself for some absurd reason your mind has come up with. 

And even though Billy has had very minimal interactions with you, he likes you. He wouldn’t wish the horrible thoughts he’s had for himself on anyone else, but he gets the feeling you already know. 

“Well, I’m not gonna berate you or nothin.’ But uh, if you ever want help, or want to workout together so it’s not so miserable, let me know alright?”

You smirk at him, hoping to make the situation a bit less awkward. “Are you implying you’re the reason working out would become less miserable?”

Billy laughs, glad to see you’re not totally opposed to the idea of him offering help. “Yeah. But really, you shouldn’t have to hate it y’know? If I can help you figure out not to hate it…I’d like to try. And we could get to know each other better.”

Billy fidgets with the lighter in his pocket. He’s weaned off cigarettes, but he keeps loads of lighters around so he has something to occupy his hands with. If not, it’s usually not a good situation for him to be in. 

Your heart squeezes at the genuine quality in his words. You feel like you’re a lost cause at this point, but there’s a big part of you, the soft and squishy and easily flustered one, that wants to take him up on this offer. 

You nod, wrapping up your towel so you can drop it in the bin and go get changed. “Okay. I’ll think about it, Billy. Promise.”

————

“One more.”

“I can’t, Billy. I told you, I’m not strong enough for this shit.”

You swear when you’re frustrated. Billy has learned that over the past few weeks. 

He crouches, leveling with you. Your knee bounces, the dumbbells in your hands sitting on the tops of your thighs. “Yes, you can. You’re already up to twenty-fives for your presses. Try one more for me and then you can rest a minute.”

Your eyes well with tears that you quickly blink away as you settle back against the bench. This is the point in a workout where you just start to hate yourself. You think it’s pointless, you know you’re body hasn’t changed enough, you feel like total shit—everything just feels fucked.

You use your knees to help lift the dumbbells and slowly lift them to the appropriate height, making sure to protect your shoulders like Billy taught you. You inhale and raise them up. Your arms are shaking, especially your non-dominant one which is really fighting this shoulder press, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to lift them fully until you do. 

“Fuck, yeah!” Billy’s voice reaches your ears just as you’re lowering your arms, completely out of breath. You set the dumbbells on the floor. 

Billy is thrilled for you. He can see the progress you’re making, how much stronger you are and less hesitant to try new exercises.

When you look up at him the expression on your face tells him you are not thrilled. 

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?”

You stand and walk over to the mirror that covers one whole wall. You put your hands on your hips and bite the inside of your cheek. “Billy, will you look at me, honestly?” You gesture to your body. “This is the matter. I don’t look any different than the first day I showed up here, do I? Even if I’ve been busting my ass, I’ll just never—”

You stop, rubbing your hands down your face and over your bloodshot eyes. 

“You’ll never what?” Billy locks eyes with you in the mirror. 

You set a hand on your chest, nails digging into your skin. “My body will never be good enough for me. I’ll always look at every other person that walks by, jealous that they have the figure I want and I’ll never have. Why did I have to get stuck with this shit? Why couldn’t I be given a body that I’d be happy with. Life if fucking hard enough, why couldn’t I have this one thing?”

“And you’re just so effortlessly gorgeous, you know that? I wish it was that easy for me, too. It’s just like, why am I even doing this anymore when I know I’ll never look the way other women do? I’m bullshitting myself, aren’t I, Billy? Working out like it’s gonna do anything.”

You exhale and drag your arm across your nose, avoiding Billy’s gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.” Billy’s tone is firm. “Listen for a second, will you?”

“You are getting stronger. You’re using heavier weights all around. Shit, you’re up to fifty for your deadlifts. Hold your arm up for me—yeah, and squeeze, yep. Look at that.” 

He taps his index and middle finger on your bicep, on the bit of muscle you’ve grown and shape you’ve built. “You are absolutely not bullshitting yourself, you hear me? If anything, you’re bullshitting yourself by thinking you can’t be happy in this body. You don’t have to look like other women. Who the fuck put that idea in your head? I don’t know if you see how I look at you, but I think you’re gorgeous, and I love to see you becoming more comfortable in the movements you do, in your own strength. Your body does so fuckin’ much for you.”

Billy is still keeping eye contact with you in the mirror. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and you swear you sweat more because you know he’s right and you know you are getting stronger but fuck you just can’t believe that. You look at him and you just wish you were that lithe, that comfortable in your own skin. 

“I’m doing this with you—hey, take a deep breath, alright?” He clocks the way you’re shaking out your hands, trying to keep yourself from breaking. Crying. Screaming out of frustration. “I’m doing this with you because I used to be just like this, you hear me?” 

He hates being vulnerable, fucking despises it, but he knows that giving you this information, giving you this little pathway into his life just might save you right now. 

“I worked out all through junior high and high school because I fuckin’ hated myself, and I thought if I could get bigger, if I could make myself look intimidating, then maybe other people wouldn’t treat me like shit. That part worked in some places, but I didn’t like myself any more because I hadn’t sorted through any of my mental shit.”

He says your name. Slowly. You like the way it sounds when he says it, hating the way it sounds when it leaves your own lips. 

“I know we aren’t all that close yet, but I see so much fuckin’ potential in you. I’m not gonna let you suffer with all this shit alone. I know you hate your body, but this is the one you were given, and there’s no point spending so much time destroying yourself over that simple fact.”

You turn around to face him, your hands on the sides of your neck, rubbing as if that will stop the emotion from rising in your throat. It doesn’t work. Billy’s eyes move back and forth between yours, across your face, tracking every change in your expression. He recognizes what you’re doing, trying to suppress all of this. 

“C’mere.”

You go before your mind can fight back. Billy takes you in his arms, tucking your face into his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You breathe unsteadily into his skin. You don’t care that he smells like sweat and you smell like sweat and that you’re shaking and tears are slipping from your eyes. His arms are strong, and the feeling of his biceps squeezing you closer, his hands running up and down your back, it makes it all feel like it’s okay. 

“It’s just so fucking hard, Billy,” you mumble, lifting your head up slightly. “It’s not fair. I just want to be pretty and normal and have a body I can accept like everyone else.”

Billy gently touches his index finger just below your chin, coaxing your gaze up to meet his. “I know it is. And I mean it when I say that you are pretty. Honestly, you gotta think about how many ‘pretty’ people there are out there, people who have the bodies the tabloids tell them to have—and are absolute dicks. Hell, that’s how I was in high school.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, signaling that he did get a little joy in you having admitted that, even if it’s not a full on smile. His thumb swipes down your cheek, mopping up the little track left by a tear. 

“Point is, this, what I’m holding right now, is your body. No one else would know it like you do, know how to take care of it, know where each mark has come from or each thing you’ve put it through. Each thing it’s gotten you through. You can accept it, because I’m going to help you get to a point where you can look in the mirror and not shit-talk yourself.”

You pull back a little, pressing the palms of your hands to your face, your elbows slightly poking the top of Billy’s rib cage. “I’m just so scared.”

“I got you, you hear me?” He pulls your shirt away from your collarbones just so it’s not sticking to your skin so much. “You don’t need to be scared. Not with me.”

You nod. And you keep doing that until it feels a little more believable. 

————

Billy can’t stop looking at you. 

And he really needs to focus before he runs off the sidewalk and into the road. 

But for the first time in the few months he’s known you, you look free. You look happy. You look all of these things and you’re running. There’s a baseball cap perched backwards on your head, one of his from forever ago that he lent (gave) you when you mentioned you didn’t have any. 

He can smell the sunscreen you’ve slathered all over yourself, see the sweat dripping down your spine. This is the first time you’ve felt brave enough to go out in just a sports bra and a cropped sweatshirt, bright colored biker shorts covering the tops of your thighs. Your frilly socks make it too, just because it shows how much more comfortable you’ve gotten with doing this. 

It turns out you never hated running. You just needed to do it in a different atmosphere, with different thoughts running through your head. And having a good running partner helps, too. 

“There’s a bench up here if you want to rest a second before we finish,” Billy says through a rather aggressive exhale. You’re glad the sun is setting, because that makes it so much cooler than when you try to run in the morning with the sun beating down on you and seeping into your veins.

You sit down, taking a long drink from your water. Billy crouches on the sidewalk, shaking out his hair and retying the mess of a bun he was wearing. 

“You’re doing so good today,” he tells you, winking at you from his place just a few inches to your left. 

You grin into your water bottle. “How long was that?” you ask. 

He rises and sits down next to you, his arm slung behind your back on the bench. His thumb brushes the shell of your ear, rubs over the little hoop you’re wearing. You watch as he does a little math in his head, checking out where exactly you are. “Little over two miles, bee.” 

Bee. Your heart skips every time he says that. It’s a very new thing, but it sort of slipped out one day, and you’ve loved it ever since. 

“What movie you wanna see this weekend, honeybee? My treat.”

When you’d asked why he chose that name for you, he’d teased at first, telling you it was just because you’re so damn sweet. But really it was a little more sappy than that. 

“Well, you are sweet. And bubbly when you want to be. But think about how much shit those little fuckers get done. How persistent and focused. They’re all cute and fuzzy n’ whatever, but they’re like, badass lil’ things, y’know?” 

Your knee bounces excitedly on the pavement. “Really?” That’s the farthest you’ve run so far. And you didn’t even hate it. You had…fun.

Billy laughs, throwing his head back a little and bearing his neck to you. It shines with sweat and it almost looks like he’s glowing. “Fuck yeah. You’ve been kicking my ass this week. I hate running.”

“But you do it with me,” you say.

“But I do it with you.”

You reach over your shoulder and squeeze his hand. “I like running better when it’s with you. Just for the record.” He squeezes back, lifting your hand up gently to press his lips to it. 

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

A crease forms between your brows as you meet his gaze. “What for?”

“For not giving up.” You start to argue with him, but he continues before you can belittle yourself even the slightest bit. “You’ve kept at this, at trying to get yourself stronger and to try and feel more comfortable in what your body can do. I know you probably still wish you looked like some fuckin’ model or some shit, but I can see how much you’ve eased up, you know?” 

You nod, giving him a small smile. “I do still wish that sometimes. It would be easier. But I’m getting better, I think. I hate to tell you you’re right—,” he shoots you that cocky, prideful grin, “but my body does do a lot for me. I’m starting to accept that it can do a lot for me…” 

You trail off, tapping the toes of your sneakers on the concrete below you. “And I did squat with the bar and those little plates yesterday without a spot.” 

The spot in question was watching you carefully from a few feet away, ready to sprint if you needed help. 

“Yes, you did, bee. You’re kicking ass.” That dimple forms in his cheek, and you know he’s about to say something smart. “Speaking of ass—”

You stand abruptly, turning around quickly so that the area he’s speaking of isn’t directly in his face. You’ve learned he has a staring problem, specifically with that part of you. Not that you mind. Maybe that’s where your pride comes in.

————

The sun has slipped beneath the horizon by the time Billy slips his key into the gate, pulling it securely shut behind him. The first spattering of stars are trying to show in the purple-blue sky. 

The pool is calm, empty, and lit only by the pale bulbs built into it and the two light poles on either side of the patio. 

It was Billy’s idea to sneak in for a late night swim. He thought it would be fun, and he knows you hate swimming in an overcrowded pool. But truthfully, he just wanted to give you another space where you could feel completely without judgment and just exist. 

“What’s the plan here, Billy? I didn’t even think about taking a detour to get a swimsuit.” 

It’s true, you’ve felt so carefree around him that you weren’t overthinking, overanalyzing a scenario like this. You weren’t worried about running inside and finding the most full coverage bathing suit you have because you’re afraid of Billy seeing your body. But right now…you just feel calm. Your body isn’t perfect, but it’s okay if he at least sees your legs. 

Billy is already slipping off his shoes and taking off his shirt. “That’s because the point of this is being spontaneous, bee.” He walks to the far end of the pool and dives in, just in his little running shorts, before you can even blink. 

You’re nervous, just that little bit because this is so different from something you’d usually do, and now you’re just stripping? You’re just living and having a good time? Who the fuck are you?

You step out of your own shorts and pull off your socks. You’re left in your underwear and your little cropped sweatshirt. You register, as you walk down the stairs, that your underwear are blue, and you look just like Lisa from Weird Science. It makes you smile. 

You track Billy’s movements once you're up to your waist and realize he’s heading for you. He squeezes your ankle beneath the water before coming to the surface, a wide grin on his face. His necklace is stuck around his back and on instinct you reach out to straighten it. 

His eyes drag up and down your figure. “Hi, gorgeous.” The low drawl of his voice makes the tips of your ears burn. 

You wade a little deeper into the water, circling behind him. When you’re drenched up to your chest, you splash him. Billy cackles. It is possibly the most joyous sound you’ve ever heard. 

He dives for your waist, hooking an arm around you and swimming off, making you howl with laughter before you have to hold your own breath when he pulls you out deeper than you are tall.

He hoists you up out of the water and gently tosses you to the side, letting you fall into the water on your back. The adrenaline coursing through your veins is magical. 

You keep playing with him, playing, like you’re both kids who’ve never been in a pool before, until you’ve run through most of your energy. You try and teach him a game you played as a child, where one person spreads their legs and your goal is to swim between them without touching their skin, even as they move their legs closer together each time. 

It’s silly, because you inevitably know you’ll touch your opponents legs, but it’s fun. You don’t think about anything else when you do it. He teases you though, trapping you with his calves most times so you automatically lose. 

Now though, you and Billy stand nose to nose, at a depth where you’re not up to your chin so that you can actually speak to him. “This was a really good idea,” you tell him. You push some of his wet hair out of his face and then, rather than pulling away, you set your hands on his shoulders. 

He wraps his arms around your waist. “This okay?” he asks, lowering one arm so he can show you he wants to lift you up. You give him a sweet yes. 

Billy’s hand grips your thigh, coaxing you upward so you can get your legs around his back. You adjust your arms behind his head, him respectfully keeping his hands on the backs of your thighs. He steps back just that little bit more so he can submerge himself further in the water now that you’re held up. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile for this long before,” Billy says. His blue eyes flick back and forth between your own. 

“You’ve given me a lot more reasons to.” Your hand cups his cheek and he swears he could fucking collapse. You’re so gentle with him and Billy never knew he even wanted that. But now he craves it. Craves you. 

That cocky smirk you’ve started to recognize before it even begins makes an appearance. “Yeah? Can I give you one more reason to?”

You hum in agreement, and then Billy is pressing his lips to yours. They’re damp and he tastes a little like chlorine, but…he was right. You smile brilliantly into the kiss, and you’re not sure you stop the rest of the night either. 

————

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I just find it sooo interesting how Charles chooses to kiss Crystal after the most emotional day in Port Townsend so far. Let’s review:

1. Charles is clearly jealous of Monty and Edwin at the beginning of the episode: “You? Him? Spending a lot of time?” (Whether this is platonic or romantic jealousy, I’ll leave that up to you… though I definitely have thoughts.)

2. Edwin is really trying, for maybe the first time ever, to comfort Charles and get him to open up (because the Devlin case in the previous episode made him realize that Charles has major walls up). Edwin paying, even slightly, is definitely a new, potentially kinda scary thing for Charles.

3. Crystal is really concerned about Charles and not afraid to hide it, and it’s clearly irritating him. So much so that he nearly snaps at her — which he never does to her — and he stops himself, only to say, “As long as I’ve got my best mate and a case to solve, I’m good.” *pause* “I appreciate you. But leave it, yeah?” I just think it’s really significant that Charles didn’t say “as long as I’ve got you guys” or “my mates” or “you and my best mate.” Crystal was a hit of an afterthought, I think.

4. Charles tells Edwin off for not telling him about the Cat King, so much so that Edwin feels the need to say: “I don’t understand why you’re so angry.” Charles is clearly not in the best mood, not thrilled about the case they’re facing, and not thrilled about his “best mate” hiding things from him.

5. Charles nearly watches Crystal jump to her death, and it wasn’t even him who saved her. It was Niko. He looks the most devastated of all of them, and then gives her that big speech of how important it is for her to know that jumping isn’t worth it, because it’s not actually her mom, no matter what it feels like. And she basically tells him he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, because she knows her mom wants to see her.

6. Charles is so jealous, watching Monty flirt with Edwin as he’s stuck digging through a dumpster.

7. Let’s just be clear on one thing: Crystal was the first to “attack” the Night Nurse, even if she tried to do it psychically instead of physically, and no one bats an eye. But then, when Charles gets violent with her after she threatens to take Edwin back to hell and makes him relive all his trauma, all while basically teasing him, everyone FLIPS OUT about him attacking her. It’s honestly kind of unfair, and I’d lose it too if my friends looked at me like that.

8. Charles really loses it for the first time (maybe ever in front of Edwin). He feels like he can’t help Crystal with her problems, and he can’t get Edwin to be honest about what’s going on in his head, so he definitely can’t help him, and it’s heartbreaking. But the real kicker is that the only one who steps up to try to comfort him in that moment is Edwin, because the others are still stunned by his outburst. But Charles flinches away from his touch, because he can’t fathom how anyone could love him or want to be near him in that moment.

8. If that wasn’t enough, as they leave the lighthouse, Crystal is staring at him with major concern. For obvious reasons. But I relate to Charles in the way that that look would drive me CRAZY, and I think it’s so important that later, when offering an understanding ear, Edwin doesn’t let Charles see the scope of his concern for him. That’s why I think Charles responds more politely to his offer to talk to him if he ever needs it.

9. Slightly out of chronological order here, but before going into their respective rooms, Niko says, “I think I’m going to go do something where I don’t have to think now.” And Crystal says, “Yeah, I’m with you.” … and then she goes and makes out with Charles.

10. Idk, it just seems a bit self-destructive of Charles to go make out with a girl right after she says that, and to kiss her for the first time right after she says “I just want something that’s real.” After he spent the whole day being jealous about Edwin spending time with Monty, and keeping a meeting with the Cat King from him, and after Charles lost his mind (understandably). Like, this is not the time to make romantic decisions! This can only end with someone getting hurt.